Cuthbert reached up, bitterly tugging each of his eyebrows back down into a scowling position. He refused to be impressed.
Cuthbert looked the band up and down. Then back up and back down, in case he'd missed anything, since he didn't feel any clearer on matters. 'Why would anyone want your autograph?' he asked, giving up on puzzling it out himself.
The lead singer gestured to himself then, after a moment's pause, the rest of the band. 'Because we're the Bremen Town Musicians, dude.'
Cuthbert didn't feel that had answered anything but he felt it wisest not to press the point again. He had things to do.
'She'll need to pick someone today, or the council'll get antsy. And no queen wants an antsy council, let me tell you.'
He chortled to himself as if he'd said something funny. Cuthbert wondered what it was.
'Took you long enough,' the guard on the left grumbled.
'Took you long enough,' Cuthbert shot back. Then, realising it didn't carry quite the same insult the guard on the left's comment had, he added, 'To be a jerk.'
The guard on the left looked at him wryly. She raised an eyebrow. Cuthbert seethed. 'With your jerk face,' he added. 'You jerk.'
The guard on the right looked between them, worried. 'Um... Welcome to the door puzzle,' she said, trying to put on a bright, happy voice. 'We're the guards of the doors - hello - and we're here to stop you getting through these doors today.'
Because they're jerks, Cuthbert thought to himself, pouting.
So. 2016 has struck again. I set out to tackle NaNoWriMo, I really did. I had the best intentions. Look at that graph hitting target trajectory two whole days running.
But. Then I began interviewing for a new job.…
Continue readingThere were causes it was worth going to jail for. Ironic home decorating wasn't one of them.