Sunday, 24 August 2008

10. Blowtwiddle is a reluctant hero

That day Blowtwiddle cried.

He knew he had done something good.
He knew he had done something worthy.
He knew he had saved a little girl's life.

But he didn't know how to accept the accolade.

The news vans were camped outside the swimming pool,
but no one knew who the strange hero was.

Blowtwiddle had done a noble thing,
a brave thing,
but he hadn't stuck around.

Funch was alone,
Funch was orphaned,
Funch was deformed.

"The nobler the man, the larger his handspan" said a popular rhyme.

But Blowtwiddle's hands were tiny, and he definitely didn't feel noble.
"most ignoble people have relatively big hands" went another rhyme

It made Blowtwiddle feel better.

He was still young,
he facial hair was soft and smooth.

His freshly shaved face felt like velvet, not like sandpaper.
Young women stared enchanted by his beautiful chin.
Old children felt physically sick at the thought.

Funch felt sick.
Funch was sick.
Funch was sick on TV.
Funch was sick on TV while being interviewed about her parents' death.

"How did you feel watching your parents being eaten?"

Funch didn't respond, she was just sick.
The lens of the video camera covered in regurgitated chocolate chips.

That was all Funch would eat for a long time.
Chocolate biscuits and lemonade.
Lemonade biscuits and chocolate.

That was it!