Screwing An Egg Out

Half an hour passes. Mastigo does not come.

Tangerine, Kobo and Ageless watch the Gala Dinner, from the shadows.

Terence has found himself, by chance, at the edge of the canopy.

Due to careless dancing.

Someone should go and get Terence, says Kobo.

Not me, says Tangerine. They put me in a sack last time.

Not me, says Ageless. Terence can look after himself.

And he can. Mrs Thomas-Hume has seen him.

Terence! she cries. Come over here, baby!

He dances over, in his cutlass shorts. The little cherub.

Hey, says Markus. No kids allowed at the party.

It's all right, says Mrs Thomas-Hume. Feel him.

Markus has no intention of feeling a random baby.

But on close inspection, he does look cementy. A statue. That must be okay.

Terence is in. But Kobo, Ageless and Tangerine are still on the outer.

Let's wander up the beach, Tangerine, says Kobo. We might meet Mastigo. You wait here, Ageless.

Oho!

Ageless suspects a female conspiracy.

They will wander up the beach to meet Mastigo. And then what? A three way liaison.

I'll come with you, says Ageless. Wouldn't want to miss Mast-ee-go.

True, says Kobo. You stay here, in case he arrives from the other direction.

It's logical. He may well arrive from the other direction. Or even another one. He may emerge from the office.

But we all know he's not coming.

...

Mastigo is coming.

He is up at Gun Hill. He visits often, waiting for news of his babies.

He never speaks to Tangerine. He speaks to the lion. It's safer. Tangerine has a temper.

Hello, Henry Wilkinson, says Mastigo.

Not-Henry Wilkinson, says the lion. It was a misunderstanding.

I know all about them, says Mastigo. Any news of the babies?

Just so happens I'm in charge of  the babies tonight, says not-Henry.

Ho! says Mastigo. That's nice. Hey! Does that mean she's out, then?

Yes, says not-Henry.

Can I see the babies? asks Mastigo. Just for a minute?

Okay, says not-Henry. Go in.

No wonder the Empire is cactus.

Mastigo wriggles in.

There are the babies, still in their eggs in the corner.

He counts them, touching them with the tip of his tail, one by one, tenderly.

Seven.

Sweet dreams my children, says Mastigo. Your mummy is out, but....

He wriggles out again quickly.

Where IS she? asks Mastigo.

Beach party, says not-Henry Wilkinson. I'd get down there, if I were you.

Which beach? asks Mastigo.

But not-Henry doesn't know.

Creak creak.

Gauis and Griff have laid down their bicycles, and are creeping towards the lion.

Ss-ssss! says Mastigo. It works usually.

She's back! says Griff.

Impossible, says Gaius. She could not have travelled this far uphill in under an hour.

Then it's another snake, says Griff. Yes, there, look!

Mastigo is acting aggressive.

Gaius thinks quickly.

This could be Mastigodryas bruesi. If he could get closer and squeeze his privates......

Patience, Gaius.

Are you thinking what I'm thinking? asks Griff.

Yes, says Gaius. I believe so.

But he isn't. Griff is thinking that this is a godsend. This snake must be the father. The father has access to the snake hole, and therefore the eggs. The mother is down on the beach at a party. The father will not know where she is, but no doubt he would like to.

He and Gaius have that information.

Go for it! That's what the Lord said.

Leave it to me, says Griff. I'll screw an egg out of him. We seem to have God on our side.