“Hey!” he roared. “Come back with my stuff! Give me my scrapbook back, you thieving thistle!”
The plant now had a big, trumpety flower, and it was admiring itself in Wildmouth’s mirror. The lion grabbed the plant’s stem and started shaking it, but the plant simply absorbed Wildmouth’s energy, turned it’s flower towards him and blew a raspberry. Infuriated, Wildmouth bit the plant, but found it very tough and bitter: “Bhlurrrghhhh!” he cried, blowing and spitting and sticking out his tongue. Then the branch holding Wildmouth’s scrapbook swung down and hit him on the snout with it.
“Right! I’ll get you, you cheeky cheeseplant!” said Wildmouth, raising a foot onto one of the plant’s sturdy leaves and starting to climb. He was a bit scared of heights actually, but he tried to imagine he was in a scene from one of his awful films.
Miss Wu and Skates, woken by all the noise Wildmouth had been making, came onto the balcony to find Wildmouth already about twenty metres up the stalk of the plant.
“Mister Wildmouth!” cried Miss Wu. “What are you doing up there? And how did this giant plant get here?!”
“My dear Miss Wu,” Wildmouth shouted back. “I’ve no idea how it got here, but it’s got my scrapbook!”
Skates thought he must be dreaming as he watched Wildmouth slowly climb the plant. When the lion eventually got to the top he tried to wrest his scrapbook and mirror from the plant’s tendrils, but the monster honeysuckle’s grip was strong and it started swinging from side-to-side to try and shake Wildmouth off.
“Oh dear!” cried Miss Wu, “Hang on!”
By now, all the hotel guests were at their windows, gawping at the spectacle of the lion being thrown around like a big, furry doll, screaming his head off.
“What is it?” asked one of the pelicans.
“I don’t know!” said another.
“I’ve never seen anything like it!” said a third pelican.
“It’s very noisy!” said a fourth.
“I can’t sleep with all this racket!” said a grumpy walrus from another window.
“I’m sorry about this!” said Miss Wu, leaning over the balcony. “Everything will be under control shortly!”
“I hope not!” said a penguin from a small window.
“Yes, we love it!” said another one.
“Poor Wildmouth,” said Miss Wu. “what are we going to do?!”
© David Severn