'You don't know what you want. You're too little.'
'I'm not too little! You weren't saying that when I smuggled in extra baccy and drink for you five years ago (as detailed in Sea Penguins One to Five).'
'No. Well, that was different. I'm a better person now. And besides, you're going to have a Named Person-style Guardian soon and I want to keep on the right side of them. No more smuggling for you. And no more piloting planes, firing pistols, or staying up late playing prog rock on the Moog synthesiser (again, I refer you to Sea Penguins one to five for details of all these appalling exploits). It's warm milk and early nights from now on, young man.'
'But I'm forty six...'
'That isn't humanly possible. You were only born twelve years ago.'
'I'm not human. And neither are you Uncle Tuppy. We're animals. And as I read in the Daily Record problem page last week, anything is possible.'
'Humans are animals too Tuppence. The same as us. They're just too egocentric to realise it.'
'Eh?'
'It was something I read somewhere.'
'In the Daily Record problem page?'
'No.'
'On the back of a cornflake packet then.'
'No. They don't have such things on the backs of cornflake packets any more. It's all E numbers, fat content and warnings about sugar diabetes. Anyway, wherever it was, I'm pretty sure that someone somewhere once said that we have souls, and free will, and self-consciousnesses. We're as human as they are. Unless I imagined it.'
'I thought you said we were animals.'
'Yes. We're animals, just like humans are.'
'You're making it worse now. Anyway, I know what you mean. At least I think I do. Or at any rate I don't care any more. Can I go and stay on the Wintry Isles now? I might find Unkle Funkle.'
'Oh all right. It'll probably be best for all of us.'
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