Awesome Cliffhanger

Will you explain to me what's going on? says Sartre.

Okay, says Prong. The lasso fell into the pelican's beak. The only way I could get him to open his mouth was to shout Incoming Fish!

That's heaps inventive, says Sweezus.

It wasn't my idea, says Prong. There were angels with chalices. Their suggestion.

So let me understand this, says Sartre. You shouted incoming fish and the pelican opened its beak automatically..

Yes, says Prong. And I got the lasso out.

And now the pelicam wants his fish, says Sartre.

Fair enough, says Sweezus.

Yes, says Prong So where can we get one?

I'd ask Federico, says Sweezus. But he and Arthur went off to get breakfast.

That leaves us, says Sartre.

And me, says Terence. 

I was including you, says Sartre.

And the old Fuzzballs, says Terence.

And them, says Sartre.

He sighs.

What's up? asks Sweezus.

Too many details, says Sartre. I may give up writing this blog.

Don't do that! says Sweezus. I'll lose my job.

You write it then, says Sartre.

Okay, says Sweezus. Where are you up to? 

The string, says Sartre.

Sheez! says Sweezus. That far back! What about the mantilla?

Yes start from there, says Sartre. Here, use my phone.

Shouldn't we be looking for a fish, asks Prong.

You guys go looking for a fish, says Sweezus. I'll be here writing.

Use my style, says Sartre. And mention the shop where I bought the mantilla.

No worries, says Sweezus.

Sartre, Terence and Prong head off to look for a fish shop.

Sweezus sits on a stone step.

Sartre's style. That should be easy. What was the last thing he wrote?

The string. Yeah Sartre couldn't remember why it was needed.

Too bad. Leave that out.

He starts typing: 

The hairnet being ripped, I needed a replacement. Not for the rescue, but to give to my wife. I got on my bike and rode thorough the streets of Barcelona, looking for ladies' hair things. I found a shop selling mantillas and combs, Magatzems de Pilar. There I bought an exquisite lacy mantilla with fringes at a reasonable price. One of our smaller companions tried it on. Here is a picture.

Sweezus fiddles about adding the picture of Terence as a ghost.

Yeah that looks heaps funny. Vello will like it.

He continues:

When I returned, things had moved forward. The baby had been rescued. But there was a snag. The replacement baby had a handbag, the original didn't. Our parrot flew back up to see if this had been noticed. It hadn't. But there was another snag now.

Sweezus looks at his work. Awesome stuff. A cliffhanger.

He posts it.

Done.

Be A Victim

Did you get it? asks Holy Spitball.

Yes, here it is, says Prong. Now where is that handbag?

Here, says the Virgin. 

She hands Prong the broken handbag.

Little Fuzzball looks unhappy.

Don't worry, says Prong. I'll be back in no time.

Little Fuzzball starts to look happy.

She doesn't mean actually no time, says the Virgin.

No, it's just a saying that means soon, says Prong. Have a nap or something.

Or, says Holy Spitball, Little Fuzzball and Normal could play with the lasso.

Now Normal looks unhappy.

He doesn't want to share his lasso with a baby.

What a nice idea, says the Virgin. But my baby is tiny. There's not much he can do.

Normal thinks of something Little Fuzzball can do.

Be a victim.

He grabs his lasso. Twirls it

Stop! commands Holy Spitball. Or you'll lose it again.

Yes, it must be tied to your waist first, says the Virgin. Come here and I'll do it.

Normal goes to her and she does it.

Normal scrambles away. Twirls his lasso.

Success first time!

Little Fuzzball wriggles out of the lasso.

Lassooooo! squeals Little Fuzzball

Too many ooos says the Virgin. But well done. You've learnt a new word.

I'll be off then, says Prong. She flies down with the handbag.

Passing the pelican.

Remember the fish! honks the pelican.

I'll remember, says Prong.

We should have asked for something, says the first angel.

Should have, could have, says the second angel.

They nod at one another.

Prong reaches the ground.

Here's the handbag, says Prong. Who's going to fix it? And who can get hold of a fish?

Take it easy, says Sweezus. What's this fish thing?

Terence thinks he knows.

Fish glue! says Terence.

No one has fish glue these days, says Sweezus. We'll buy some super glue.

So we don't need a fish, says Terence.

The fish is for the pelican, says Prong. I promised.

Pelican? Fish glue?  Fish?

Sartre, who has been trying to make catch-up notes for his blog, gives up trying. 

My Fish Is The Third

Prong thinks fast.

Something she has become good at.

I'll bring you a fish, says Prong.

When ? asks the pelican.

As soon as I've done the first thing, says Prong.

What is the first thing? asks the pelican. And will it take long?

Not long, says Prong. Then there's the second thing. 

What are the two things? asks the pelican.

May we guess? asks the first angel.

Of course we may, says the second angel.

Go ahead, says Prong. What's the first thing?

The first thing is to return the lasso to whoever dropped it, says the third angel.

Not quite, says Prong. He didn't drop it, he threw it.

I was going to say threw it, says the first angel. 

But you were too slow, says the third angel.

What about the second thing? asks the pelican.

I have to pick up Little Fuzzballs's broken handbag and take it to be fixed, says Prong.

Who is little Fuzzball? asks the pelican.

The Virgin's new baby, says Prong.

No one told us the Virgin had a new baby, says the first angel.

Yes. Since when? asks the second angel.

This morning, says Prong. But it's just a replacement.

The angels look at one another.

Are they okay with replacements?

They look into their chalices.

The first angel thinks of a question.

What happened to the old baby?

The second angel thinks of a question.

Why does the new baby have a handbag?

They both ask their questions at once.

Prong pretends she only heard the second question.

These babies all come with a handbag, says Prong.

And its handbag got broken, says the pelican. Catch up, guys.

Okay, say the angels. Just asking.

The parrot's got three things to do, says the pelican, and my fish is the third.

It certainly is, says Prong. I'd better get going.

She flies up to return the lasso.

Parrots are more efficient than doves, observes the first angel.

Incoming Fish!

Don't worry, I'll get it, says Prong.

She flies down to the pelican, who has now closed his beak.

This might be tricky.

Excuse me, says Prong.

The pelican says nothing, its mouth full of string.

Our bear dropped his lasso, says Prong. Have you seen it?

No response from the pelican.

He has it, says a cement angel.

The angel is standing nearby, holding a chalice.

Yes, says an second angel, also holding a chalice.

If only, says a third angel, with a chalice.

If only what? asks Prong.

If only your bear had dropped his lasso into a chalice, says the first angel.

Any chalice, says the second angel.

You'd have got it back straight away, says the third angel.

Thank you, says Prong. I see what you mean. Chalices are open. 

The pelicans beak was open, says the third angel.

But not now, says the second angel.

What's the best way to get him to open his beak? asks Prong.

Try shouting Incoming Fish! says the first angel.

The angels all laugh.

Should I? asks Prong. 

Worth a try, says the second angel.

But I don't have a fish, says Prong. He'll see that immediately.

There'll be cement fish somewhere, says the second angel. 

All creatures are somewhere, says the first angel.

And all plants, says the third angel.

All right, says Prong. 

Incoming Fish!

The pelican opens its beak.

The lasso is visible.

You'll have to ditch the lasso first, says Prong.

Thuth, says the pelican.

I'll help if you like, says Prong.

She approaches the pelican and pulls the lasso with her beak.

Now Prong's beak is occupied by the string.

And the pelican's isn't.

Where are these incoming fish? asks the pelican.

Prong spreads her wings to indicate she can't answer.

Here, says the first angel, offering a chalice.

Prong drops the string in.

Now she can theoretically answer,

But what is the answer?

Open Pelican

Prong has flown down to tell everyone what's happened.

What happened? asks Terence.

We pulled Normal bear out of the fork in the tree, says Prong.

Yay! saysTerence.

But then the rescue went wrong, says Prong.

Boo, says Terence.

Not that wrong, says Prong. It's just that Holy Spitball let go of the string.

Too busy spying, says Terence.

No, he got jerked, says Prong.

So where's the normal bear now? asks Sweezus.

Yes where is he? asks Sartre. I need to know too.

He fell into the Virgin's bowl, says Prong.

Yikes! says Terence. Did she notice?

Of course she noticed, says Prong. Luckily Normal bear didn't fall on Little Fuzzball.

Sounds like a good outcome, says Sweezus.

Did you give him the message? asks Terence.

Yes, says Prong. And guess what?

What? asks Terence.

Little Fuzzball can say handbag, says Prong.

Did you teach him? asks Terence.

No he just learnt it, by listening, says Prong. And  pencil.

Is there a reason for him learning pencil? asks Sartre, noting the word down.

He had one in his handbag, says Prong.

Maybe your Fuzzballs have a pencil in their handbag, says Sartre. 

Why don't you open it and see, says Sweezus.

It's too small and fiddly, says Sartre.

So he doesn't.

How about the lasso? asks Sweezus. Did the normal bear like it?

I don't know, says Prong. I came down to tell you guys what happened before he started lassoing.

Go back up! says Terence.

Okay, says Prong.

Up she goes again.

At last! says Holy Spitball. Look what happened! The clasp on the handbag is broken.

We were hoping your friends down below might be able to fix it, says the Virgin. Baby's upset.

Little Fuzzball snuffs loudly.

Sure, says Prong. But before I go, how does Normal bear like his lasso?

He hasn't tried it yet, says Holy Spitball. 

Normal is ready to try it.

He picks up the lasso. 

Wait! says Prong. It has to be tied round his waist first.

But too late. Normal has thrown the lasso at a branch and missed it.

And the lasso has dropped into the open cement beak of a pelican.

Where Is He Now?

The Virgin is surprised to find Normal bear in her bowl.

Are you all right, dear? asks the Virgin.

Normal bear is surprised too. He says nothing.

Pencil! cries Little Fuzzball.

Did he land on your pencil? asks the Virgin. 

Handbag, says Little Fuzzball.

Normal bear looks underneath himself.

Yes, a handbag. And he's seen it before.

Is it broken? asks the Virgin.

Little Fuzzball starts crying.

Snuff-snuff.

Holy Spitball flies down.

My fault, says Holy Spitball. He was heavier than I expected. When he jerked I let go of the string.

Jerk! says Little Fuzzball.

I don't like you saying words like that, says the Virgin.

Little Fuzzball snuffs harder.

Did my bear land on your baby? asks Holy Spitball.

No, but it was close, says the Virgin. He may have damaged the handbag.

I'll have it fixed, says Holy Spitball. It's the least I can do.

Very kind, says the Virgin.

I'll give it to Prong, says Holy Spitball. She has friends down below.

I know, says the Virgin. But where is she?

She must have flown down to tell them what's happened, says Holy Spitball.

She's very good, says the Virgin.

Isn't she, agrees Holy Spitball. And she thought up the rescue.

And my happy existence, thinks Normal. But she got that part wrong.

Come on bear, says Holy Spitball. 

He gathers up Normal.

Oh, wait, says Holy Spitball. I'll need that string unthreaded.

The hairnet lies in the bowl, still threaded with string.

Easily done, says the Virgin.

She pulls the string through, and gives it to Holy Spitball.

Are you planning to keep him tied up? asks the Virgin.

Not at all. says Holy Spitball. This string, if you look at it, is a proper lasso. When this end is tied round his waist, he can use the lasso to catch and swing between branches.

Like a monkey? says the Virgin. 

Exactly, says Holy Spitball. You'd better watch out!

I once had a bigger baby, says the Virgin. He was always up to mischief.

I remember that infant, says Holy Spitball. 

I can't say I miss him, says the Virgin. But I sometimes wonder where he is now......

The Happy Existence

Now to rescue the normal bear, which is stuck in a fork of the tree.

How are we going to do this? asks Holy Spitball.

You sit at the top of the cypress holding one end of the string, says Prong. I'll fly across to the bear, and net him. Then when I say pull, you pull.

Simple enough, says Holy Spitball.

Just be ready, says Prong. He might jerk you.

Jerk me! says Holy Spitball.

He'll be falling, says Prong.

You think of everything, says Holy Spitball. 

I try to, says Prong.

Holy Spitball perches at the top of his cypress, holding one end of the string in his beak.

Prong flies across to the normal bear.

The normal bear glares at Prong from his uncomfortable position.

I'm here to rescue you, says Prong. Your happy existence is about to begin.

Normal starts looking more cheerful.

Hold still while I net you, says Prong.

Normal holds still. 

Prong thinks about the best way to net him.

Head and legs? Or bottom.

No, she can't net his bottom.

I'll drape the net over your ears, says Prong. And then pull it forward to net both your feet. After that I'll get Holy Spitball to pull the string tighter. 

Normal decides not to think about how painful this might be,

Instead he thinks about what Prong might have meant by his happy existence.

Prong nets his ears. Then pulls the net over his feet. 

So far so good. 

Prong signals to Holy Spitball. 

Pull the string tighter!

Holy Spitball pulls.

Normal's feet draw up close to his face.

His bottom loosens (in a good way).

He drops out of the fork in the tree.

Holy Spitball has been prepared for a jerk, but not quite such a big one.

He teeters, on his branch. Tries to right hinself. Drops the string.

Normal falls down unrestricted.

And lands in the Virgin's bowl next to Little Fuzzball.

Phew!

It could have been worse.