Is it Possible to be Bored and Terrified at the Same Time?

Ah well.  It's great to be home, toasting my feet before a roaring driftwood fire and sipping a large mug of Madeira.
How did I get here?  I can't for the life of me remember,  and it's probably just as well.  Geoffrey assures me that it was all a horrible dream - except for the part where we were sitting on Saturn's rings.  Which leads me to think that we might still be there, and that my cosy fireside is an illusion, brought on by either boredom or terror.  Or both.
Is it possible to be bored and terrified at the same time?
I will ask Geoffrey.
"Geoffrey?"
"Yes, I think it is.  For example - "
"But I haven't asked you anything yet.  Oh no!  Don't tell me you're at the mind-reading again.  Where's your Mind-reading Prevention Device, or M.P.D.?  Put it on immediately."
"No.  I have a new Device.  It's a Mind-reading Filtre,  or M.F.  It enables me to choose which minds to home in on and read, rather than having to endure the chitter chatter of many minds, when in range of course.  Some people's minds are rather unsavoury, Tuppy.  You'd be surprised."
"I wouldn't," I thought.
"Yes you would.  And no, I don't mean normal dirt and muck, or wanting to put a pillow over my face to stop me snoring PERMANENTLY, or hiding packets of Gypsy Creams and Black Bogey behind the skirting and pretending we've run out.  Yes, I know about all that, because I saw your thoughts - it was just like being at a magick lantern show, except it was deeply hurtful and upsetting and there was no popcorn and nobody sneezing in the seat behind without covering their mouth."
I was aghast.  Talk about intrusive!  I tried to make my mind as blank as possible by thinking about Nothing...nothing.....nothing.....Gosh it was difficult.  So much for people saying I'm empty-headed.
Geoffrey was still rattling on. "It's all right Tuppy - I forgive you.  I understand your foibles,  despite your not understanding mine and being horribly impatient with me.  What I mean is, some people think nasty, poisonous thoughts about other people.  They assume the worst.  They suffer agonies of jealousy and they want to bring them down.  These thoughts occupy most of their waking moments, and as a result they make their own lives miserable as well as the lives of those around them.  I can't bear it Tuppy!"
He began to sob.
"Fetch the M.P.D. right now Geoffrey,"  I snapped, "I'm sure it's still in the attic - possibly underneath the coracle.  The new-fangled M.F. obviously is no earthly use whatever, and you're starting to rave, albeit rather feebly.  This carry-on has to stop, and stop NOW.  While you're searching for it I'm going to have an opium tabloid to take the edge off my morbid fear of still being on Saturn's ring and my own cosy fireside just being a trick of the over-taxed brain, and ponder today's conundrum - is it possible to be both bored and terrified at the same time."

more later

A Tight One on Titan, and the Perils of Moon-o-centricity

Who knew?
Geoffrey and I are in the same section of the solar system after all.  Not only that - we're on the same ring!
It only goes to show that you can't make assumptions about where you really are in life. For example, I assumed that because I was on a Moon that it was THE Moon.  Our familiar companion on silent, frosty midnights.  A pale, slender sickle, a silvery gleam, a reminder of darkness on an indigo summer evening.  A sudden light as the wind blows the clouds away in an equinoctial gale, and ships toil across a stormy sea.
How wrong could I be?
No. I'm on Saturn's largest moon, Titan.  Not to be outdone, Geoffrey's also on a moon of Saturn. Or rather, a "moonlet".  He's not on a ring, after all.
Or rather I was, and he was. We've been rescued, and are now - well, more of that later.
"Saturn's rings are made of dust particles and gas Uncle Tuppy.  I read it in the Tupfinder General's Giant Book of Useful Knowledge, which he lent me when I was recovering from my latest dose of 'flu," said Tuppence as he circled me in his space rocket. "You can't possibly sit on them.  You'd fall through."
"Tuppence!  But how did you know we were here?"
"The Tupfinder General happened to be watching for smugglers through his hi-powered telescope at the exact moment you were sneezed out of Kevin Bacon's nose. He saw you as you were blasted into the stratosphere, out of the Earth's atmosphere and indeed orbit.  He said the screaming was terrible and he'll never forget it. After a quick cup of tea, a pipeful of Black Bogey, a brief snooze, a read of the paper and a plate of korn bif sandwiches to revive himself, he flew into action and sent word to me via the heliograph to fire up my rocket toot sweet and head for Saturn with a knee rug and a flask of Madeira.  And here I am!"
"Never mind all that. Do you have the medical chest?" I asked urgently, as my nephew "looped the loop" and fired a salvo from the Bren gun he had fitted to the front of the rocket.
"Ha ha ha!" he laughed, as the "moonlet" on which Geoffrey had been perched was blown to smithereens. "That's for me to know and you to wonder!"
"Nooooo!" I wailed, as Geoffrey plummeted Saturn-wards.
"Why isn't he flying uncle Tuppy?" cried Tuppence, coming to his senses.
"His wings were welded shut by the G force when we were blasted out of Kevin's nose," I snapped.  "I'm surprised the Tupfinder General failed to inform you of that part.  Do something, Tuppence!"
Luckily Geoffrey's wings fluttered into life just in time, and he landed beside me on Titan.  Tuppence threw us a line and, using a mechanical winch, he hauled me on board.
"Good grief Uncle Tuppy.  Even without your fleece you weigh, well, a bit much actually. I haven't allowed for that in my calculations."
"What calculations?" I demanded.
"My time-space continuum calculations.  Essential to our safe return.  We could run out of fuel before we reach home due to the excess weight.  Sorry Uncle Tuppy.  Sheep overboard!"
And with that, a trap door flipped opened beneath me and I dropped into the bottomless pit of Space.
Well, nearly.  Just as the trap door snapped shut I managed to grab hold of the outside handle, and here I still am - clinging on for dear life as Tuppence steers for home.  He keeps looping the loop in an effort to get rid of me but to no avail.  I can hear the engine struggling a bit and I know that I'm threatening the lives of my companions, but I don't care.  All I want is to get home and put my feet up in front of a blazing fire with a massive mug of steaming Madeira and quite possibly a couple of opium tabloids to take the edge off after this humungous ordeal.
Geoffrey's peering at me anxiously from the tiny triangular window - he's just written - "HANG ON TUPY" on the steamed-up glass.

More later.......

(If you like the Tuppy & Geoffrey stories, there are many more in e-book form which you can find here on my Amazon page via this link)

I'm spinning in the Void and Geoffrey's stuck on Saturn's Ring - but which one?

It's not nice on the moon.  It's cold and there's nothing to eat.  I thought the Moon was made of cheese - it's not.  It's solid rock.  It's even harder than one of Granny Sooker's Rock Buns - and that's Hard.
I'm all alone and there's no-one to moan to, except myself.  Oh for my tartan knee rug and a hot steaming mug of Madeira partaken in front of a roaring driftwood fire.  Maybe a few packets of Doritos and a pipeful of - oh what's the point if I'm all alone.  Where oh where is Geoffrey?
"GEOFFREY!!!" I shrieked, into the ghastly void.
There was no response.  Of course there wasn't.  I was all alone on the dark side of the Moon, spinning like an unlighted lamp in the chilling blackness of the -
"TUPPY!  It's me - Geoffrey - I'm Over Here!"
"Over WHERE?"  I choked back my sobs and sat up.  Geoffrey's voice echoed as if from a great distance. 
"I'm stuck on Saturn's ring.  I've been here for ages and I can't get the frig off.  My wings were welded shut by the G Force when we got sneezed out of Kevin Bacon's nose. Do something Tuppy. I'm frightened."
Saturn's ring? But surely Saturn has more than one ring? I remembered that from one All Hallow's Eve, when the Tupfinder General gave us one of his unforgettable mind-expansion lectures instead of allowing us out guising. "You're just doing it for the sweets Tuppy. Besides, there's an upper age limit for guising and you passed it eons ago. "
"Who says?" I argued.  But I knew he was right. Hereabouts, if you grow taller than the fourth branch of the third rowan tree on the right as you head north south north on the clifftop path, you can no longer "Guise".  In fact, you can no longer do quite a few things, but that's another story. 
"Which ring are you stuck on, Geoffrey?" I shouted, knowing full well that it was pointless to ask because even if we could identify the ring, I had no means of getting there.

More later...............