Friday Fiction - Henry Pooper and the Missing Tatter Tots

Thanks everyone for the thoughtful and encouraging messages on my first venture into this new world. This week's was a bit tougher for me as I couldn't think of anything for 'conspinkey' but with a little help from my friends (and bending the rules a little!), here's what I came up with. Hope you like it!

It was a day like any other at Wartworths for Henry and the gang when the announcement came that the whole school was required to attend an emergency meeting in the dining room. Henry entered the huge hall with his friends, Harrymoney and Rob Weasel, and looked around with some trepidation; could they not have one day without a mystery to solve?

'Students of Wartworths!' Cried the headmaster, Crumblewhore. 'A great tragedy has fallen upon us once again!'

Great, thought Henry, and just when I should be studying for my mid-terms. He must have scoffed out loud because Harrymoney shot him a scowl. Man, she is really becoming a pain in the ass.

'...But we should not let this stop us from the mid-terms and the feasts to follow. If we do not find them in time, we shall have mashed instead!' Crumblewhore raised his fist to the sky and the students around him roared their approval.

'What's happened?' Henry leaned to Ron Weasel.

'Weren't you listening? Someone's stolen all the tatter tots!' Ron Weasel replied, wringing his hands in despair.

'Is that all? Hardly an emergency.' Henry rolled his eyes.

''Is that all?'' Ron Weasel squealed. 'It's a catastrophe! We've got to find them before the feasts!'

'C'mon Ron, it's just bloody potatoes. It's hardly the end of the world.'

'But Wartworth students always have tatter tots after the mid-terms, it's a tradition.' Harrymoney piped up, her nasal little voice drilling a hole in Henry's brain. 'We've got to try to find them!'

'But how?' Ron Weasel asked in a querulous voice.

Harrymoney thought for a moment before replying. 'In my silly buggers class, I've been learning about invisibility spells. There's one called the inconspinkey I think could work!'

'Great!' Ron replied. 'Let's meet in the toilets after class and try it out.'

As they walked out of the hall, Henry wondered to himself would he ever get a chance to study? And what was Ron Weasel's obsession with the toilets？

...

Three hours later, the three of them were standing in a circle holding hands in the bathroom. Occasionally you could hear students rushing past, hurrying to their dorms or getting ready for the Swiggle match. It was dark and dank in the toilets and their voices echoed off the grimy porcelain surfaces.

'Oxy-gel mask, pantene ten, nivea,' Harrymoney chanted, with her eye closed.

'Are you sure you know the spell?' Ron Weasel whined.

'Yes!' Harrymoney huffed. 'Now shut up and let me finish!'

'I just don't want to turn into a frog again!' Ron squeaked.

'Ron, shut the fuck up,' Henry replied. 'The sooner we do this stupid thing, the sooner I can get back to studying.' And trying to figure out a spell to see into the girls' changing rooms, he thought to himself.

'Oxy-gel mask, pantene ten, nivea, loreal et visage!' Harrymoney finished with a flourish. They dropped hands and looked about themselves warily; they appeared to be in an empty toilets. 'Well that worked, I can't see either of you!' She said with a smug satisfaction.

Quietly they crept down to the kitchens in the lower recesses of Wartworths.

'Gross, what's that smell?' Ron Weasel whispered.

'Vegetables.' Harrymoney replied drily and Henry sniggered.

Entering into the kitchens, the heat hit them straight on. It was muggy like a jungle with steam rising to the ceiling from thousands of large pots. Kitchen staff raced back and forth, sweat falling down their bodies onto the floor. Fat chefs yelled about the din of hissing and snapping, shouting out orders that appeared to go unheard.

'Over here.' Harrymoney pulled the boys behind a large carton of egg substitute powder. They hunkered down to watch.

After an hour, Ron Weasel had started to snore and Henry's legs were starting to get sore from the cramped space. He was just about to say that they should give up and get back to their dorms when a shape loomed out of the steam in front of them.

It was large and brooding, slowly moving through the vapours. The kitchen helpers seem to ignore the presence, still running around like headless chickens. Henry's breath caught in his throat as he prodded Harrymoney and Ron Weasel.

'Wha, what?' Ron Weasel muttered.

'Shhh, the tatter thief is coming!' Henry hissed at him.

As they crouched lower, the figure came towards them, weaving back and forth. Finally it emerged and stepped into the foreground. A grey and dirty tattered jacket, large black boots and a beard of natty pubic-like hair.

'Haggerd!' The three jumped out from their hiding place and Haggard jumped a foot in the air.

'Who goes there?' Haggard demanded, his beady eyes roaming the area frantically.

'It's us,' Harrymoney waved her arm to release the spell and she, Henry and Ron Weasel appeared. 'What are you doing?'

'Ah well, I was...' Haggard stuttered, looking sketchy. He glanced down at the trio and sighed resigned. 'Alright, I was looking for more tatter tots.'

'But why?' Ron asked.

'They're not for me, they're for my new pet. He's a tato-dino-crater.' Haggard smiled inwardly, thinking of his new friend.

'Oh but Haggard, you know those tatter to are for the mid-term feast!' Harrymoney said, sounding very disappointed. 'What have you done with all the others?'

'Well Frank already ate those you see so...'

'Okay then we'll just have to make some more.' Harrymoney looked thoughtful.

'You can do that?' Ron Weasel asked.

'Well sure, all we need is some more potatoes – preferably new – and some oil. I know a spell.' She looked around and spied the ingredients.

'Fucking hell, why didn't you just do that in the first place!' Henry said angrily and stormed off. His friends stared after him as he stormed out of the kitchen.

I really need some new friends, Henry fumed.

Friday Fiction - Modern Fairy Tales

This week's topic was pretty easy for me, once I picked my Fairy Tale. I originally really tried to find a Native American tale, as they fascinated me as a child, but unfortunately they were too obscure to be revamped. The below didn't take me long and probably isn't my best work but I tried to have a little humour at today's housing market at the same time.

The three brothers, Percy, Peter and Paddy, left their mother's home to seek out their fortunes individually.

Percy went to London, went to work for a banker and a years later, became the CEO of the bank himself. He took an early retirement and traveled the world, visiting places far and wide. He had a lovely big flat in Chelsea and married a girl half his age. He was very happy.

Peter became a teacher of English and married a sweet girl he met in his second school. They had four children and loved them dearly. He built them a home out of pine timbers and full of little knick knacks. After many years together, his wife died quietly in her sleep. Peter left the family home to his children and went to live in an 'elderly citizens' complex'. He met new friends and was very happy.

Paddy went to America and joined the hippy revolution. He met a young lady at a peace protest and decided to marry her in a Buddhist temple. They came back to England and bought a plot of land in a rural setting and grew all their own food, little children running barefoot through the fields. He was very happy.

....

One day, Percy had a knock at his door. Standing on his doorstep was a very hairy, long nosed tall lawyer.

'Mr. Ig?' The lawyer asked.

'Yes?'

'I am Mr. Wolfe from Wolfe and Slater. I wish to buy your home.' Mr. Wolfe produced a piece of paper with a number written on it.

Percy took the piece of paper and looked at the sum. 'Why Mr. Wolfe!' He exclaimed. 'This is very generous but I couldn't sell my home. I'm very happy here.' He handed the paper back.

Mr. Wolfe sighed deeply. 'Are you sure you won't change your mind?'

'Not by the hair of my chiny-chin-chin!' And Percy closed the door.

Three days later there was an electrical fire in the basement of Percy's building. The building was deemed unsafe unless extensive repairs were done and the building’s advisory group decided to sell to Wolfe and Slater for a very tidy sum.

...

One day, Peter had a knock at his door. Standing on his doorstep was a very hairy, long nosed tall lawyer.

'Mr. Ig?' The lawyer asked.

'Yes?'

'I am Mr. Wolfe from Wolfe and Slater. I wish to buy your home.' Mr. Wolfe produced a piece of paper with a number written on it.

Peter took the piece of paper and looked at the sum. 'Why Mr. Wolfe!' He exclaimed. 'This is very generous but I couldn't sell my home. I'm very happy here.' He handed the paper back.

Mr. Wolfe sighed deeply. 'Are you sure you won't change your mind?'

'Not by the hair of my chiny-chin-chin!' And Peter closed the door.

Three days later, a routine inspection of the grounds found a small fault with the plumbing. Despite the assurances of the home's residents that it would be fixed right away, the council decided to close the entire home indefinitely. The land was sold to Wolfe and Slater for a very tidy sum.

...


One day, Paddy had a knock at his door. Standing on his doorstep was a very hairy, long nosed tall lawyer.

'Mr. Ig?' The lawyer asked.

'Yes?'

'I am Mr. Wolfe from Wolfe and Slater. I wish to buy your home.' Mr. Wolfe produced a piece of paper with a number written on it.

Paddy took the piece of paper and looked at the sum. 'Why Mr. Wolfe!' He exclaimed. 'This is very generous but I couldn't sell my home. I'm very happy here.' He handed the paper back.

Mr. Wolfe sighed deeply. 'Are you sure you won't change your mind?'

'Not by the hair of my chiny-chin-chin!' And Paddy started to close the door.

'But Mr. Ig,' Mr. Wolfe put his hand on the door and smiled a toothy grin. 'I already have bought your brother's homes and perhaps it would be in everyone's best interest to try to be a bit more negotiable.'

'I am aware of your recent purchases Mr. Wolfe,' Paddy replied huffily. 'But I'm afraid you'll find a bit harder to pull the rug out from under me, so to speak.'

'Oh, and why is that?'

'Because Mr. Wolfe,' now Paddy smiled. 'I think you'll find that my home is completely green, fully sustainable and built on government -leased land. Now good day!' And with that, Paddy closed the door.

As Mr. Wolfe growled at the door, the three bothers returned to their dinner, laughing at poor Mr. Wolfe's unfortunate turn of events.

Madness in a Logical Context

This is my first attempt at the weekly challenge. I realise it's a bit overdue but I hope to get better with deadlines as we go. I hope the title explains all but just in case (for future reference), this week's challenge was to explain some madness in a logical manner.

It all started with a little key.

When my landlord handed me that little shiny silver key, I felt something inside of me shift ever so slightly. I stared at it in my palm, such a little thing bu full of so much power.

When I had originally came to see this little pokey apartment, I tried to weight the pro's and con's in my mind. To be honest, there weren't too many pro's to be found; it was dusty and cramped. Two tiny rooms with a minuscule toilet in between. A grimy kitchen covered in years' of grime, the previous occupants' belongings strewn about.

The only real pro as it were I could convince myself of was the huge sash windows facing out towards a small park behind. The trouble was they were also filthy and shrouded in black heavy curtains which drained the light out of the room.

'Well what do you think?' The landlord asked, looking at me amused. What I thought must've shown on my face.'

I signed the years' lease in less than an hour.

Sitting in a cozy coffee-shop nearby, I ruminated on my rash decision but decided it was worth it in the end. After almost nineteen years in a single bedroom at my parents' house and the last two years in another small cheerless room at university, I knew this was going to be the best I could afford at the moment.

It was in a fairly good neighborhood with a just a touch of the shady side of life with a lot of little coffee shops like this one and some nice restaurants. There was a feeling of 'community' here, the library was new and shiny but the local pool was pre-revolutionary.

So when that little shiny key dropped into my hand, I felt more alive than I had before. More adult, more ready to face the challenges that were ahead. I relished them. All because of that little key.

I picked up a little habit of keeping that key in my hand when I was feeling unsure of myself; when my boss had to tell me again how he wanted things done, when I felt a bit unsure of myself when in the bar with friends, when someone was weaving down the road towards me, slurring abuse at anyone passing.

That little key became my talisman against life. I started shining it against my thigh from time to time, to keep that shiny glow about it. I liked turning it over and over in my hand, it had a weight that reassured me.

One day, coming home from a particularly bad day and struggling to pull my keys from my pocket without upsetting the groceries, I noticed the front door key. This key had been handled by a lot of hands, it was dark with age and slightly dulled across the teeth.

I started some soup for dinner and sat down on my little futon. I looked around the room; I had tried my best to make the place my own. I had cleaned as much as I had had the energy for after work, the windows were mostly clean with a lot of streaks left over. I had attacked the stove but lost heart when looking in the dark oven.

This is my home, I thought to myself, this should be my little oasis from the world. So I decided to get stuck in. Before I realised it, the time had gone over the witching hour. I blew the hair out of my eyes and scanned the room. It looked better but little spaces still bothered me; the high part on the windows I couldn't quite reach, the dark shadows hovering above the old gas-powered fireplace that didn't work.

I was asked if I wanted to go for a drink after work with a few people from work but in my mind, I could see the mold lingering in the bathroom. The baseboards that were still dusty. I cried off in the face of their kindness to the new girl and quickly fled back to my home.

I spent another few hours scrubbing the floors and trying to find all the grim I could but everywhere I looked I saw more dirt. I sighed to myself and had a shower before jumping into bed but I lied awake, watching the windows flutter in the breeze.

I felt more cut off than ever before but all I could think of was getting back home and cleaning up. People stopped talking when I came into the coffee room and stared at their cups. I felt a sharp pain at all the invites I had turned down over the last couple of weeks.

But all I could think about was getting home. There was still so much to do. It made me happy to putter about my little flat, making sure everything was neat and tidy. It felt like a little corner of my world was ordered and organised. Even when everything else felt disordered and out of my control, there was this quiet haven I could escape to at the end of the day.

One morning, I decided I couldn't face going to work. It just seemed like too much too walk out that door – the world was out there, full of nasty surprises and disappointments. It was much safer in here and it had been at least a week before I vacuumed. I called in sick and decided to wash down the kitchen again.

Things went on like this for quite awhile before my boss took me into his office. I watched his mouth moved while he told me that it was inexcusable the number of absences I had had recently, that my behaviour was becoming increasingly erratic. I listen empathically as he listed off my list of offenses, both large and small.

And all I could of is how soon I could get home and lock the door with that little shiny key.