Necessary Violence

Prong arrives first.

They've found glue! says Prong.

Cool! says Sweezus. What kind?

Special plastic glue, says Prong.

Great, says Sweezus. I got that part right.

What do you mean? asks Prong.

I'm writing Sartre's blog for him, says Sweezus.

I know. says Prong. But weren't you just catching up on past happenings?

Yeah I was, says Sweezus. I got kind of carried away.

Sartre arrives with Terence and a small paper bag.

Glue! says Sartre, opening the bag.

Special glue, says Terence.

Yes, says Sartre. I asked the assistant's advice.

Okay, says Sweezus. I'll start mending the handbag, while you read what I've written. 

He returns Sartre's phone.

Sartre starts reading.

It's very detailed, says Sartre.

Yeah, says Sweezus. Feel free to change stuff.

Irritating for the baby? says Sartre.

I wrote tragic for the baby, says Sweezus. But I thought irritating sounded more you.

I suppose it does, says Sartre. But would I use that term for a baby?

Babies get irritated, says Sweezus.

Point taken, says Sartre.

He gives Sweezus the glue.

Can I help? asks Terence.

Yeah get the lid off, says Sweezus. Where's the handbag?

Terence looks around. 

Yes, where is it?

Sartre, Sweezus and Terence start looking.

Prong notices where it is first.

The two Fuzzballs have got it, says Prong. Look, they've got one handbag each.

The two Fuzzballs are playing with their handbags on one of the steps.

Handbag! says one.

Pencil! says the other.

The one with the good handbag opens his handbag.

Out tumbles a pencil.

Grr-hee! laugh the Fuzzballs.

Give me the broken one says Terence. We have to fix it.

The two Fuzzballs look rebellious.

This will ruin their game.

But Terence takes the broken handbag and hands it to Sweezus.

Sweezus starts forcing the broken clasp into place.

Click!

Shit! says Sweezus.

You're meant to wait for the glue! says Terene.

It just clicked into place, says Sweezus. 

What's  happened? asks Sartre looking up from the problematic blog Sweezus has written.

Didn't put the glue in, says Sweezus. And now it looks like it's fixed, but it isn't.

Force it apart again, says Sartre. Sometimes violence is called for.

But is it? asks Sweezus. 

Necessary violence, says Sartre.

You do it, says Sweezus.

Sartre takes the tiny handbag.

This is the sort of thing he is good at.

Tragic To Irritating

Sartre and Terence have not yet returned with the glue.

Sweezus keeps typing Sartre's blog, on Sartre's phone:

An accident had occurred with the handbag. The clasp was broken. The replacement baby was distraught, and our parrot has promised to fix it. At this moment I'm looking for a glue shop.

Sweezus stops. Has he left out too much? Holy Spitball's role for example?

No, Sartre needs to catch up to the present. And add stuff about bikes.

Sweezus alters his last sentence: 

At this moment I'm cycling around Barcelona looking for a glue shop. I'm wearing a helmet. They're strict about wearing bike helmets here. The glue will be a middle of the road solution, not the superglue favoured by certain of my colleagues. I pointed out that the handbag might become permanently closed, a tragic result for the baby.  

Sweezus stops again. Has he gone too far? Sartre isn't cycling. And would he use the word tragic?

He alters tragic to irritating. Yeah, that's more like Sartre.

Encouraged, he keeps going:.

I spot a hardware shop. No doubt they sell glue. I prop my bike against a bollard and put the chain on. I enter the hardware shop and enquire about glue. The hardware assistant insists on knowing what I'll be using the glue for. I tell him it's for a child's plastic handbag. He shows me various glues that suit plastic. I pick the most expensive. He approves of my choice. 

Sweezus stops again. 

He has definitely gone too far now. 

Would Sartre pick the most expensive? 

If he did, would he say that he had? 

Would he then become chatty and tell the hardware assistant about Holy Spitball, and how the accident happened?

No harm in exploring:

The assistant keeps asking questions. Perhaps he's a spy? No, he seems genuinely interested. I'll tell him what happened, without revealing too much. Well, I say, I've been involved in a clandestine rescue, in which a bird, who goes by the name Holy Spitball, was persuaded to act as a lookout, in exchange for a simple toy bear. Unfortunately the toy bear broke the handbag in the course of the rescue. So, you were rescuing a CHILD! says the hardware assistant. I grab the glue, run out of the shop, unlock my bicycle hurriedly and cycle away.... 

Understandably. Sweezus stops here, and does not press publish.

Not Nicked But Forgotten To Pay For

Sweezus is typing on Sartre's phone when it rings.

It's Vello.

Hi boss, says Sweezus. Checking up on how we're doing?

Yes, says Vello. Why are you answering Sartre's phone?

I'm just helping him with a few details, says Sweezus.

As in what? asks Vello.

Have you been reading his blog? asks Sweezus.

I have, says Vello. It seems short on bicycle details. 

I'll get him to fix that, says Sweezus.

Where is he? asks Vello.

He's away buying glue, says Sweezus. 

What for? asks Vello. 

The cliffhanger, says Sweezus. 

Oh yes, the genius cliffhanger, says Vello. Has something broken?

Yeah, says Sweezus. 

What? asks Vello.

Do you want me to tell you or do you want to wait for the next post ? asks Sweezus.

Tell me, says Vello. 

The handbag, says Sweezus.

The replacement bear's handbag? asks Vello. 

Yeah, his, says Sweezus.

Do we learn how it got broken? asks Vello.

I'm leaving certain things out, says Sweezus.

You mean Sartre is, says Vello. I suppose he knows what he's doing.

But he sometimes forgets how he got there, says Sweezus. 

Lucky he has you, then, says Vello.

Yeah, thanks boss, says Sweezus. Wanna know how the handbag got broken?

Tell me, says Vello.

Well there's this dove, see, says Sweezus. It's called Holy Spitball. 

Why has Sartre not mentioned it before? asks Vello.

He still could, says Sweezus.

Go on, says Vello.

It was acting as lookout for the rescue, in exchange for a bear of its own, says Sweezus. Luckily Arthur had nicked a bear earlier. Well, not nicked, forgotten to pay for. So Holy Spitball got that bear. He wedged it in a fork of his tree, and when he tried to get it out later it fell into the Virgin's bowl and busted her new baby's handbag.

Yes I see why you're leaving certain things out, says Vello.

Yeah, says Sweezus. Too much info.

I'll leave you to it, says Vello.

Adiós boss, says Sweezus.

Very good, says Vello. You've learned Spanish. 

Bicicletas, says Sweezus. Learned that too.

Good man, says Vello. I assume that means.....

Yeah, it does, says Sweezus.

 

A Genius Post

Sweezus is already working on Sartre's next post when Sartre returns.

How'd you go with the fish? asks Sweezus.

We bought a tin of sardines, says Sartre.

Tin! says Sweezus. How's the pelican meant to eat tinned sardines?

Ask Terence and Prong, says Sartre. My part is done.

Yeah so's this part, says Sweezus.

He hands Sartre his phone.

I'll check it for errors and style, says Sartre. 

Sorry about that, says Sweezus. But it's already posted.

I see, says Sartre. Well I'd better see what I've supposedly written.

You've bypassed the string, checked on the handbag, and set up a cliffhanger, says Sweezus.

Sartre looks at the latest blog post by him.

Very good, says Sartre. Nice short sentences. A bike ride. I seem to know what I'm doing.

Yeah you do, says Sweezus. Want me to keep going?

What is this second snag that I mention? asks Sartre.

You know, says Sweezus. The handbag gets broken. 

Of course, says Sartre. Hence the need for the fish glue. But then we were sidetracked by needing some actual fish...

Let me do it, says Sweezus. I've already started it anyway. Hey look! You've got a comment.

Let me see! says Sartre.

He reads the comment.

"Genius!"

Sartre looks pleased for a moment, until he realises the genius post was not written by him.

Go ahead, says Sartre. You seem to be doing quite well.

No worries, says Sweezus. Did this creative writing course once. Got a credit.

Hmm, says Sartre. I'll see about getting the tin of sardines to the pelican. Prong, will you take it?

Not till we've fixed the handbag, says Prong.

Did we decide on superglue? asks Sartre.

Yes superglue, says Terence. Let's get some.

Superglue might be tricky, says Prong. What if we accidentally superglued the handbag shut for ever.

With Fuzzball's pencil inside! says Terence.

No, his pencil is out of the handbag, says Prong. But he could never put it back in.

So it would be USELESS! says Terence.

We'll find a middle of the road solution, says Sartre.

Yes! says Terence. I'll stop the traffic.

Is that a joke? asks Sartre.

Maybe, says Terence. Let's go!

See you guys later, says Sweezus.

Remember to quote me on the middle of the road solution. says Sartre.

I'll squeeze it in somewhere, says Sweezus

Two Hard Things

Sartre, Terence and Prong have found a fish shop.

They stop, and look through the window.

Fresh fish, dried fish, and stacks of tins of sardines.

Perfect! says Prong. 

What's perfect? asks Sartre.

A tin of sardines is perfect for a cement pelican, says Prong.

I don't follow your reasoning, says Sartre.

Two hard things, says Prong.

What are they? asks Terence.

The tin and the pelican, says Prong.

I thought you meant hard things, says Terence.

They are hard things, says Prong. 

I thought you meant different hard things, says Terence.

Like what? asks Prong.

You're the one who said it! says Terence.

Difficult things, says Sartre. But let us go into the fish shop.

They go into the fish shop.

Hola, senor, chico y pajáro! says the fish shop guy.

Hola, says Sartre. Perhaps you can help us. What fish do pelicans like?

Why don't you ask your pajáro, says the fish guy.

He is looking at Prong.

It's a cement pelican, says Prong. So I don't really know.....

Maybe I know, says Terence.

Of course, says Sartre. You're of the same substance.

What is this substace? asks the fish guy.

Cement, I believe, says Sartre. Although you'd hardly credit it.

What does that mean? asks Terence.

You seem very flexible, says Sartre. But there'll be certain qualities you share with the pelican.

Yes! says Terence. We're two hard things.

This is getting nowhere, says Sartre. I'll just take a tin of your best sardines.

Ciertamente, senor, says the fish guy.

He goes to the window and takes a tin from the top of the pile.

Sartre pays for it. 

Adiós, senor, says the fish guy. 

Adiós, says Sartre.

He and Terence and Prong leave the shop.

Will the pelican eat the whole tin? asks Terence.

That's the beauty of this purchase, replies Sartre. 

It will be up to him.

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 through 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.