No, of course I didn't eat Geoffrey. He would probably be perfectly edible served up with a couple of rashers of bacon on his back and some sage and onion stuffing, or even, at a push, roasted with a Knorr stock cube crumbled and massaged into his skin 'to bring out the flavour', and an unwaxed lemon up his nethers a la Marco Pierre White, or even simmered vilely in Coca Cola a la Nigella, but sadly there are no cooking facilities on the coracle and I just couldn't face him 'au nature' or whatever.
I certainly couldn't manage to pluck him, with my hooves. I'd have to singe his feathers off. Maybe with my Zippo. But it would take AGES.......
"Tuppy! How c-can you even think of such things!" gasped Geoffrey. I'd forgotten about his mind-reading facility.
Oh dear. Oh well.....
"I'm STARVING Geoffrey! Have a heart. Call yourself a friend? The least you can do is...."
WHOOOOOOSSSHHHHHHHHHHH BBLLOOWWWWWWWWWWW
A large whale appeared off our starboard bow. Well, it would have been our starboard bow, if we had one. The coracle doesn't have bows, being circular. So, I suppose all bows are at the same time either and or equally starboard and or port depending on how the mood - or indeed "Fancy", to make another nauseating and laboured allusion* - takes you.
"My. You're awfully big. Even for a whale. What kind are you?" asked Geoffrey politely.
"I'm the Great 'Fat' Whale. Of Norway," replied the creature.
"Really? How interesting. Do tell me how you came by your name, especially the 'Fat' bit. I'm sure it will be an absolutely fascinating tale, and I'm longing to hear it," enthused Geoffrey.
I put my feet up on the bowsprit and prepared myself for a nap.
"Fire the kettle on and crack open your best biscuits, friend," replied the genial Leviathon**, "Chocolate ones. And maybe some cake as well. And I wouldn't say no to a scone with clotted cream and strawberry jam, if you have it. And plenty full fat milk and six sugars in my tea. And after that I'll tell you how I got my name and other tales that will make your feathers fall out."
I opened an eye. "Ummmmm....."
*the name of our coracle is Fancy. Feel free to split your sides.
**apologies for using the term 'genial Leviathon'
I certainly couldn't manage to pluck him, with my hooves. I'd have to singe his feathers off. Maybe with my Zippo. But it would take AGES.......
"Tuppy! How c-can you even think of such things!" gasped Geoffrey. I'd forgotten about his mind-reading facility.
Oh dear. Oh well.....
"I'm STARVING Geoffrey! Have a heart. Call yourself a friend? The least you can do is...."
WHOOOOOOSSSHHHHHHHHHHH BBLLOOWWWWWWWWWWW
A large whale appeared off our starboard bow. Well, it would have been our starboard bow, if we had one. The coracle doesn't have bows, being circular. So, I suppose all bows are at the same time either and or equally starboard and or port depending on how the mood - or indeed "Fancy", to make another nauseating and laboured allusion* - takes you.
"My. You're awfully big. Even for a whale. What kind are you?" asked Geoffrey politely.
"I'm the Great 'Fat' Whale. Of Norway," replied the creature.
"Really? How interesting. Do tell me how you came by your name, especially the 'Fat' bit. I'm sure it will be an absolutely fascinating tale, and I'm longing to hear it," enthused Geoffrey.
I put my feet up on the bowsprit and prepared myself for a nap.
"Fire the kettle on and crack open your best biscuits, friend," replied the genial Leviathon**, "Chocolate ones. And maybe some cake as well. And I wouldn't say no to a scone with clotted cream and strawberry jam, if you have it. And plenty full fat milk and six sugars in my tea. And after that I'll tell you how I got my name and other tales that will make your feathers fall out."
I opened an eye. "Ummmmm....."
*the name of our coracle is Fancy. Feel free to split your sides.
**apologies for using the term 'genial Leviathon'
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