I think Fuzzball looks sad, says Federico.
Terence look sternly at Fuzzball.
You just got rescued, says Terence. You shouldn't be sad.
Grrr-rah! growls wee Fuzzball.
That might mean he's confused, says Prong.
Why? asks Terence.
Maybe he liked it up there, says Sweezus.
You'll like it better down here, says Terence.
Grrr-rah, growls wee Fuzzball.
I need to go back to Holy Spitball with the string and the new baby's handbag, says Prong.
Does he want it? asks Terence.
Baby bear wants his handbag, says Prong. Holy Spitball needs string.
The whole ball? asks Sartre. Or just enough for whatever he's planning?
It'll have to be the whole ball, says Prong. Unless we can cut it.
Maybe he can cut it, says Arthur.
Or Saint Joseph? says Sweezus. He must have tools.
He's got an axe, says Terence.
Plan of action, says Sartre. Prong flies up with the string still attached to her leg. She asks Holy Spitball what length he wants, then asks Saint Joseph to chop it.
Prong's leg? asks Terence.
The string, says Sartre.
Phew! says Terence.
Phew! says Prong. What about the handbag?
In my pocket, says Federico. And there's also this other one.
He takes out the tiny handbag, and the second Sylvanian baby, who has his own handbag.
Two for the price of one, remember?
Grr, says wee Fuzzball.
Looks like he wants it, says Prong.
Which? asks Terence.
Wee Fuzzball points at the handbag.
Too bad. That's been promised, says Prong. Give it to me, then I'm off.
Federico gives Prong the handbag.
She flies up, with the handbag in her beak, and her leg still attached to the string.
Grrr-rah! growls wee Fuzzball.
Federico opens the packet containing the other Sylvanian baby.
The baby tightly clutches its handbag.
Having heard enough to know what comes next.
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