Cruel Mustard

It's good if he just ate an egg, says Surfing-with-Whales.

No necessarily, says Gaius. It felt hard, so it still had the shell on.

Little Mystic looks worried.

He has eaten an egg with the shell on, instead of a worm!

What'll happen? asks Terence.

We wait for him to pass it, says Gaius.

How? asks Terence.

The natural way, says Gaius. 

A whole egg! says Surfing-with-Whales. That'll be painful.

I may be able to do something to assist him, says Gaius.

Do it! says Terence.

All right. This may seem cruel, says Gaius. Lie down, Little Mystic.

Little Mystic lies down.

Gaius picks up a middle-sized pebble which was lying nearby.

And raps Little Mystic's tummy. Rap rap!

Toppit! cries Little Mystic.

Courage! says Gaius. 

He raps harder. Crack crack!

There! says Gaius. The shell is now broken and the egg will be easier to pass.

Little Mystic's tummy starts to gurgle.

Excellent, says Gaius. Something is happening already.

What is? asks Terence.

The shell will come out in small pieces, says Gaius. We don't need to watch.

Yeah, says Surfing-with-Whales. I'm heading down to the water. Coming Terence?

I'll come too, says Gaius. I'll collect a few worms for Little Mystic.

They head down to the shores of Lake Rosebery, leaving Little Mystic to pass his pieces of eggshell in private.

Surfing-with-Whales sprints ahead and dives into the water.

Terence watches as Gaius searches for worms.

I should have brought something to draw them out, says Gaius. Mustard, for example.

Or peanut butter, says Terence.

Hum, says Gaius. I'm not sure worms will come up for peanut butter.

There's one! says Terence.

Sure enough, a worm has stuck its head up, through the mud.

We don't like peanut butter, says the worm. And we really hate mustard.

That's the idea of the mustard, says Gaius.

Heartless! says the worm, sinking back into the mud, leaving a tiny hole which fills up straight away.

We lost it! says Terence.

Perhaps we should give up on the worms, says Gaius. Little Mystic can make do with insects.

Yes! says Terence. I'll go and tell him.

He runs back to where Little Mystic is sitting in a glutinous pile.