“I’m guessing, based on the Author’s notes on the back of that envelope, that the Lord Mayor is part of a nefarious conspiracy against the people of Tarrelo.”
“You know it is a pity,” mused the corporal as he sat upon a box of ammunition, “Andacia was supposed to be our ally against the giants. Now they’ve been infiltrated by the giantish kingdoms…”
“Sorry,” interrupted Sid, “is this one of those moments when we look into your back story as part of your character development?”
“I think it must be, seeing as I don’t know what I was going to say next.”
“Now they’ve been infiltrated by the giantish kingdoms they are like a) A pin prick in a teabag. b) a fruit from the useless tree., or, c) making bungee cords out of steel wire.
“None of those analogies really work.”
“But they are quite funny though. Could you do better? Seeing as you didn’t know what you were going to say next.”
“I suppose thinking that they’re funny depends on what kind of sense of humour you have.”
“Just make up a humorous analogy, before I make you swab the deck.”
"Like punch mixed with red."
"Breaking the metaphysical barrier there I see. Unless of course you mean Mr Punch, mixed with Raymond Reddington from The Blacklist."
"Is that funny?"
"It will be when I punch you, you turn red then I swab the floor with you."
"You can't do that, that's bullying."
"But I can threaten it."
The colonel butted in as he walked back from the bridge, "Now now Sid, try to go a little easy on him will you, we're supposed to be fleshing out his character development not scaring him into the metaphysical."
Just then [or something quite similar] the airship turned sharply to the left making them all lean to the right to try to keep from falling off.
Arthur shouted, "What's happening Chatteris?"
"We've deviated from the plot Colonel, it's creating havoc with the gyroscope."
"Deviated from the plot," blustered Arthur, "how can //that affect the gyroscope?"
"I don't know Sir," shouted back the helmsman as he struggled with the wheel, "it just seemed to come to my mind as an explanation."
"A bit like how the Author writes most of the time," Sid nudged Plattington.
"Sorry," usurped Plattington, "are you my friend again now?"
Sid drew back a little, "I'm, er, still your friend? [Seeing as we only met at the beginning of this story.]"