“Very descriptive Author,” moaned Sid, “it’s a wonder that you don’t blow everyone’s minds with your great descriptions.”
“Now steady on Sid,” intoned Arthur, “we mustn't insult him too much, or he might make us stop existing.”
“And kill the cash cow?”
“Well, cash beef burger maybe.”
I thought I would describe their situation a little better…
“Situation,” fretted Arthur, “I didn't know we were going to be in a situation. I shall have to complain to the funny character’s union, I wasn’t expecting so much overtime at Christmas, I wanted to spend it with my family.”
“Arianne you mean,” commented I.
“So you don’t want to be in this story then?”
“How much money will I be getting?”
“I thought you did these things for love not money.”
Sid piped up, but not with pipes, “He’s just being lazy, he doesn’t want to do any work really, for love nor money.”
“Stop blustering Arthur, you sound like a storm coming in from the east.”
“Well!” welled Arthur as he fell down a well.
“Take him out of the well Author then you will un-well him.”
Arthur grimaced as he was un-welled.
“Grimacing now eh?” queried Sid, “next you’ll be chuntering and moaning.”
The king of the Britons tried to stop chuntering and moaning but he found it very hard with two of us ganging up on him. “That’s it, I am going for a rest break, I’m sick of this.” He stormed off of the set while chuntering and moaning.
“Right now let’s get on with this situation,” ordered Sid as he looked about him.
So, I again attempted to describe their, his, situation. I had not actually thought of anything, seeing as this was only supposed to be a simple short story.
“Do you need some help with where I am Author?” Sid asked me.
“Oh, go on then.”
“We could be in those droplet things that you have just incarcerated Lizzie McBean in, in Attack on Thera?”
“How did Arthur just walk through them and off the set then?”
“They are supposed to be props.”
“And what’s that well doing in the prison?”
“They need to get water from somewhere.”
“I just use a tap. A well isn’t very sci-fi is it.”
“Where do you want us to be then?”
“Somewhere in the Time Backwater, somewhere you haven’t been yet.”
“Good, so where is it then, seeing as I haven’t been there yet?”
“The swimming pool.”
And as I said that Sid fell into the swimming pool of precinct 12.
“Glub,” he glubbed being totally unprepared for such an event. “I’ll drown, I’m still in me chain armour.”
I changed his clothes into a one-piece swimming costume, he floated up from the bottom.
As he bobbed around in the water he asked, “What was that situation again?”
A shark appeared from a gate at the end of the pool.
“A SHARK!!!” exclaimed Sid as he frantically swam towards the side to try to get out before he was eaten. His little legs did not appear to be working too well and he looked like he might get eaten.
At that juncture Arthur popped his head around the pool doors, “Did you want me to get you a cup of coffee Sid,” he asked, then spotted Sid.
“You fool,” shouted Sid as giant spots appeared on his bathing costume, “don’t spot me, shoot the shark with your electric pistol.
“But er…” butted Arthur.
Arthur shot the shark, missed, and a giant arc of electricity hit the water shocking both Sid and the shark. The jolt to the little dwarf’s system meant he shot to the side of the pool and jumped out. His hair was frizzy. He was very angry with Arthur, “Nincompoop.”
“Now, now,” smirked Arthur as he waved his electric pistol, “I did save you.”
“You may have done, but now I have frizzy hair!” As he grabbed his hair a clump of it fell out.
“Well you know what they say, hair today gone tomorrow.”
Sid chased after him as he ran back towards the canteen.