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الموضوع: A Little Town called Plink

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    افتراضي A Little Town called Plink


    A Little Town called Plink

    By
    Constance Laurel


    Ok, it all began one gloomy, cloudy, wet and dreary, bleak and weary, hot summer day. It was a day like any other day, except for one, especially unusual thing. The sky, had taken on this sort of purple haze. It was an unfamiliar haze, as most of the time it was pink, or a sort of magenta. After all, this was no boring place, not a place where normal, boring people lived. It was a FUN place. A place where children had fun ALL the time, and parents toiled endlessly. (Not in any way like our world, where parents sit around eating bon bons all day long, and singing happy songs.) And by toiled, I mean, they worked their fingers to the bone. Not very pleasant for the parents. Not at all. Anyway, on this particularly unusual day, one little girl, and only one, looked up at the sky and noticed the change. "My goodness!", she exclaimed. "The sky is purple!"
    "So what." said her friend, who I might add was a portly little fellow. And by portly I mean, he was quite healthy looking. He ate lots of candy. Dreadful habit.
    "What do you mean, SO WHAT!" she exclaimed, with a question mark at the end.
    "I mean, so what." he repeated, lifting his "what" into the air with his voice.
    "Why Charlie, the sky has never ever been purple." she said. "It has been all sorts of colors; orange, green, puffy blue, marshmallow, even gray now and then, but certainly never purple." she said.
    Oh, and by the way, her name was Krista. I thought that might help you just a bit, as a reader. Anyway, back to the story.
    Charlie looked up at the sky, rubbed his eyes a little and looked at Krista. "Krista." he said. "What does that mean?" (The sky being purple and all.)
    "I don't know Charlie, I'm not really sure what to make of it." she replied. "Let's go ask someone."
    "Who shall we ask?" asked Charlie. " Someone who knows a little, about a lot of things, and I know just the person." Krista said.
    She started trodding along the path. By trodding, I mean stepping lightly but with deliberate meaning, in a specific direction.
    Charlie followed along, trying to walk just like Krista. He looked sort of silly. He always waddled when he walked, so the trodding part made it a sort of, shall we say, "Troddle". Yes, that's the word. We'll have to remember that word and add it to the local dictionary of words.
    troddle: (adjective) ,to waddle while trodding. Usually attempted by portly fellows attempting to "trod".
    Now then, back to our story.
    The two children came upon a little log cabin. The sign on the door said, "Only those of intelligence need knock!" Krista knocked immediately. "Come in!" Screeched the voice over the sounds of very loud hammering. The gentleman was standing over a very large anvil hammering away at a piece of ****l. He was pouring sweat over his brow and down every crevice of his body. He kept hammering.
    The two children stood there watching with amazement. The man stopped hammering and smiled, a very large smile, and held the object into the light.
    "Beautiful." he said. "Took me all day to get it right." The children looked at each other in a very puzzling looking manner. The man had in his hand, a ****l hook. The kind of hook you might place on a wall to hang a hat, or a coat, or something of such the like.
    "All day?" asked Charlie.
    The man lifted an eyebrow, while curving the other downwards at the same time. He grumbled a little, then responded. "It wasn't perfect until now." he cleared his throat. He wiped his face with his trusty blue cloth, and placed the hook on a table, alongside of many other hooks of various sizes and shapes. There must have been at least fifty two of them. "What can I do for you children? Not too many people dare to bang on my door these days, just as well, their all so bothersome anyway."
    "Well your sign is a little intimidating Mr. Godfried." replied Krista. "It didn't seem to work on you my dear." he responded with a pleasant smile, and everyone relaxed. "Come, sit down at the table and I will fetch you both a cup of hot cocomo."
    "Cocomo?" asked Charlie.
    "Come now, you've never heard of cocomo?" replied Mr. Godfried. "You want to know why it's called cocomo?"
    "Why?" asked Charlie.
    "Cause it's the kind of cocoa you want "mo" of!!!" he chuckled. And when he chuckled there was a tuft of hair on the left side of his mustache that wiggled happily. And when I say tuft, I mean a thing like a sprout, or should I say, several sprouts. Anyway, sprouts of whiskers, or hair, or whatever you want to call it, sticking out of the side of his mustache. It was quite funny actually. "Come, sit whilst I get you your cocomo."
    As Mr. Godfrey was heating the milk , the children sat themselves at a large round wooden table. The table was filled with his hooks, except one small space that was just large enough for two, maybe three cups of nice hot cocomo. The table was quite unique, certainly nothing you or I have ever seen before. It seemed to be made of all different types of wood, from just about every tree a person could possibly think of, and even the ones not thought of. And though every piece was different, each one fit together just perfectly. It was amazing. The children admired its perfection.
    "Did you make this table?" asked Krista.
    "Oh yes, took me a year to finish it too!" Mr. Godfrey replied. "Well," as he stirred the coco into the cups," if you count the years it took me to gather the different specimens of wood, and carefully preserve them, and carve them into just the proper dimensions, and until I had just the right amount of pieces for the table, it actually took me fifteen years."
    The children's eyes widened, but they were not surprised. After all, it took him a whole day to make one single hook!
    "So children, I don't think you came here to admire my handiwork." his eyebrow lifted up in curiosity. The left one, eyebrow that is, and he turned to look at them. "What is it that you would like to learn from an already old man?"
    "Well." said Krista. "It's the sky." She walked over to the front window and pulled away the patchwork curtains that hung from their wrought iron twist of a rod. "Haven't you noticed Mr. Godfrey?" she paused. "It's, well, PURPLE!" and she just stared out the ********
    Mr. Godfrey took a deep breath, then let out a sigh. He did not seem at all surprised by Krista's news. He walked over to the window where Krista was still staring at the brilliance of the purple. Charlie joined them.
    Krista looked up at Mr. Godfrey. "You don't seem very startled by the news sir."
    "Well." he replied. "I'm not, not really. You see, a long time ago I worked in the old copper mines, I was much more youthful then. I didn't actually do the mining portion of it all, but I did do a little, shall we say, behind the scenes kind of work." His eyebrow lifted once again, only this time with a slight mysterious look. He smiled. "It's all very hush hush you know."
    "No, I don't know." replied Krista. " What is it, like a secret?" She began to get a little excited. "Were you some kind of secret scientist or something?" she asked as she moved closer to Mr. Godfrey.
    Mr. Godfrey turned and started walking back toward the stove to finish pouring the last cup of coco for himself. He stirred in the powder and thought for a moment whilst he stirred. His head turned back towards Krista. He smiled once again.
    And let me tell you, Mr. Godfrey had several sorts of smiles. There was his cheery, jovial smile. The kind you would see on let's say, Santa Claus. There was his mysterious smile, a sort of happiness with something hidden behind it, something lurking. And although there were several others, the one he was showing at this very moment, was his quite mischievous smile. It's the kind of smile a child might have as he places a spider under his grandmothers cup of tea. Yes, it was just like that.
    Of course, Krista noticed this smile, and I must say, she recognized it as well. All sorts of wonderfully troublesome thoughts were running through this child's head. "Ok." she said, "I may only be eleven, but I know that look."
    "Oh do you?" Mr. Godfrey replied, lifting his question up into the air, with a great big smile. "I certainly bet you do indeed." he said to Krista.
    All the while poor Charlie just stood there watching the two of them converse back and forth, not really knowing what was going on in their heads, but interested none the less. He decided it was better sometimes, and more fun, to just hang around and watch what happens, than actually saying anything. This instance, was certain to prove that sort of thinking.
    "Ok Mr. Godfrey, are you going to let us in on your little secret, or are you just going to torment us with that smile of yours?" Krista asked sarcastically.
    "Well, I hadn't thought of just tormenting you with it." he said aloud. All the while his eyebrow twitched with enjoyment, almost as if it had a mind of its own, and was enjoying the idea of tormenting the children. "Well, I don't know if it's all that much of a secret anymore, it's been so long that is. I do suspect though, that this purple anomaly that we are witnessing in the sky does have something to do with the work I used to be involved with. I cannot be certain though."
    "Well something is certainly causing it." Krista turned back towards the window and just stared at the sky.
    Just at that moment there was another pounding at the front door. Of course, we could refer to it as simply, "the door", after all, there was no back door. There was however, a secret door, behind the cupboard, in the kitchen, but we'll talk about that some other time. For now, we'll just call it, the front door. Anyway, back to the door, the front door that is.
    Mr. Godfrey walked over to open the door grumbling all the while. "What is it, some sort of holiday, everyone thinking they have whit enough to knock on my door of all places. hmmmmmmmmmmph" He opened the door.
    There, standing directly in front of him, was another child. At least, it was the size of a child, though, it was hard to tell, but then he spoke.
    "Mr. Godfrey I presume." the small curly headed man said in an unusually deep tone.
    "Yes, and who might I ask is presuming?" Mr. Godfrey replied.
    "I, am Herman T. Bumperpickle. I am the curator of unusual happenings and sightings in the area."
    Mr. Godfrey's eyebrow that usually twitches upwards, reversed direction. He glanced over at the children, they tried to imitate his look, but failed miserably. He looked back at Mr. Herman T. Bumperpickle. "I've never heard of such a thing." he responded to the gentelman, "and I've heard of many a thing." Mr. Godfrey stood there rooted in his spot.
    "Aren't you going to ask me in?" replied the funny looking little man. "Why, do you think I ask everyone in that pounds on my door without invitation or provocation?" Replied Mr. Godfrey.
    "Ahhh, but kind sir, and I am only presuming that you are kind, sir. I do have provocation, I do indeed."
    And, if you are wondering what that means, you will find out shortly. "I, being the curator of unusual things, know a little, about a lot of unusual things, and I happen to know what you used to do for a job around these parts of town, and that it might have something to do with the unusual color of the sky lately." he said.
    "Did you give yourself this title?" asked Mr. Godfrey with a spidery grin on his face.
    "Indeed, I have never heard of such a thing, have you children?" Both children just stood there nodding their heads, staring at the little man.
    Now, you must understand what everyone is looking at to get a feel for the situation. This little man, (and I'd say this because he was about three feet four inches) had normal looking pants on, blue pointy tipped shoes, a multicolored striped shirt with zig zag looking suspenders, curly brown hair, and I do declare, he had the whitest teeth I ever could see! It was all a bit strange for them to be looking at. Anyway, back to the story.
    "Do you come from around here?" asked Krista. "You don't look like your from around here." and she asked this looking as innocent as she possibly could, and believe you me, she was quite good at looking innocent when she needed to!
    The man sort of leered at Krista. He paused, lifted both eyebrows and smiled. "I do not come from around here young miss, but I am indeed very familiar with this community." His smile looked like an all knowing, confident, mister know-it-all type of a smile. Krista was unsure whether to be comforted by his answer, or whary.
    "Umhmmmmmm." Mr. Godfrey cleared his throat. "You didn't quite answer my question, now did you? But I doubt whether an answer is really very important at this particular moment in time. Is it Mr. Herman T. Bumper........Pickle." He said just a tad sardonically.
    The man's left eye twitched ever so slightly at Mr. Godfrey's comment. It was barely noticeable, but I thought it was worth mentioning.
    Suddenly, and quite alarmingly, a whistle started blowing from outside, down the street and around the corner. Really, it did.
    Everyone ran outside, through the front door. The sound was definitely coming from down the street, and around the corner.
    "What in the world is that?!" shouted Krista.
    "I'm really not sure." replied Mr. Godfrey.
    The children and Mr. Godfrey were looking all over for any signs of any goings on anywhere else when they noticed that Mr. Herman T. Bumperpickle had vanished. Well, it seemed as though he vanished. Anyway, he wasn't there anymore, at least no where that he could be seen.
    The whistling sound kept screaming from down the road. The children decided without even discussing it with each other, to go and investigate. They started walking towards the sound.
    Krista turned to ask Charlie a question, but instead, bumped right into Mr. Herman T. Bumperpickle. "Where did you come from?!" she exclaimed.
    "Why, I 've been right behind you the entire time. What's the matter, can't see behind your own head?" he replied.
    She simply made a face, and glanced leftward where Charlie was actually standing, or following for that matter.
    The whistling stopped.
    "That's funny." said Krista. "I had never heard that sound before. It seems like an alarm or something."
    At that moment, the sky started to change color, or colors, or hues, or shades of pink, purple, green and blue.
    They all stood there, just staring.
    "Well then, I'll be leaving now." said Mr. Herman T. Bumperpickle.
    "What!, what do you mean?" said Krista.




    "All is right with the cows. No need to fret anymore. Time for me to go." and off he went.
    "That, is a very strange little man." Krista said.
    Charlie just stood there staring at the sky, chewing on something, something very chewy. Krista stared at him with a perplexed look, wondering "What is that in his mouth?"
    "Come on, let's go back to Mr. Godfrey's and get to the bottom of this." Charlie followed, chewing furocously, waddling, and trodding all the way, throdling along, one might say. Ok, now let's not go all Dr. Seuss on everyone. The children probably don't know who Dr. Seuss is anyhow. Back to the story.
    Mr. Godfrey's door was quite shut again, so politely Krista knocked.
    "Who is it?"
    "It is Krista Mr. Godfrey."
    "Who?" he replied.
    "Krista, I was just here." she insisted.
    "Come in child, I was merely playing with you. So what was all that commosion about anyway?"
    "Strangest thing you see." she started. We were running down the road, and suddenly the whistling stopped, quite suddenly I might say. And then, the sky turned several shades of colors, and then back to it's normal blue. Mr. Herman T. Bumperpickle said something about "cows", and ran off!" she made a funny face, "What do you think that was all about?" "Well it's quite simple." he replied.
    Krista waited. Mr. Godfrey was reading something quite intensely, his round glasses sliding down the bridge of his nose, almost falling off, he never glanced up, he simply kept reading.
    Krista waited longer.
    "Mr. Godfrey!" she exclaimed.
    Startled by her, his glasses fell from his nose onto the table. "What is it thou precosious child?"
    "You said it was quite simple, then you stopped."
    "What is quite simple?" he asked.
    Krista was getting quite frustrated. "The sky, the funny little man, the whistling, and the COWS!"
    "Oh yes, that." he smiled. "You see, it is quite simple. The mining operation closed down years ago, and thus there wasn't as much use for the cows you see. They must have remedied the problem."
    He went back to his reading.
    Krista was getting more and more frustrated. "How could cows have anything to do with any of this?!" "What in the world would cows do at a mine?"
    Mr. Godfrey had placed his glasses back on his nose, now he took them off intentionally, not falling them onto the table. "The cows were used to maintain the balance of the chemicals in the air produced by the mining operation. It is their flatulence that maintains the order of things. The chemicals that come from the cows flatulence keep the sky blue. If the cows are not eating properly, everything runs a muck."
    Charlie looked perplexed. "What is flatulence?" he asked.
    Krista did not want to answer this question. She knew what would happen. What happens when any young child hears that infamous word? He or she laughs uncontrollably. And I don't mean just a giggle, or a roll, they laugh until their belleys hurt. Not only do they laugh, but they begin a furious disertation on flatulence, sound effects and all, until it becomes so annoying that you want to simply throw them into a mud pile. She rolled her eyes, and pondered the question. "How in the world do I answer this question and avoid what I know is coming? Arrrgghhh, there is no way out of it, I'll just have to get it over with. Here goes nothing.
    "They tooted ok, the cows tooted." she said cringing.
    Charlie sat there for a moment, and he thought. His eyes darting from side to side, his lips curling, he wiped his face with his hand, up and down, round and round. Then it happened. His eyes fixed, his cheeks rosied up, and the sounds commensed. It was horrible. He began with quiet farts, then loud obnoxious sounding farts,laughing hysterically all the while. He walked around commencing a parade of farts, he even went as far as blowing on both arms until his mouth ran out of spit!
    Krista stood there pretending not to notice, then looked at Mr. Godfrey with contempt. "You had to say it."
    Much to Krista's surprise, Mr. Godfrey was rolling in his chair. He was laughing so uncontrollably that he nearly fell onto the floor. She could not believe her eyes, or her ears.
    This went on for nearly an hour. The young portly fellow parading around the room making fart noises was never going to stop if Mr. Godfrey was laughing at him like this!
    It was then that Krista realized that no matter how intelligent, how perplexing, how amazing a person is, it is always something simple that makes them fall to jelly.
    And the moral of the story? Farts are funny, NO , well, maybe yes. Well, really, did you expect a moral? Did you not just simply want to laugh in your seats? Really now, this is all we want from a good story, now, go right away, this very instant, and go bother someone with something silly.









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