Lew Zealand
Helper
Clomping into the Farmhouse past midnight after a tiring session of Farm reorganization and planning, Bobbi doesn't expect much beyond the gentle creaking of the Loom in the Kitchen corner and the restful sounds of "Alone with Relaxing Tea" drifting in from the sculpture room. Itching to throw off the day's dirty clothes, she ignores the crickets in the corner as she's learned not to chase them. Many frustrated evenings of hear-and-seek followed by tuneless late night serenades taught her that detente is the best compromise for everyone.
However this particular late evening one lonely paramour seems to have it bad for the lost love of his abbreviated life as he's causing quite a stir from the far end of the house. Meh, he'll pipe down in a sec, I'll just water the Cactus while Mrs. Paramour wanders over. Chirpchirp! Hmmm, sounds more like ringring?
Did he find Grandpa's old ear trumpet in the cabinet somewhere? Ring Ring!
OK, that's enough. Nobody gets to be louder than Haley's snoring.
...
That was internal monologue, right? Bobbi looked towards Haley, already asleep in bed and discerned no response. Whew, that was close!
Wandering over to the Kitchen corner, Bobbi found not crickets, but an almighty racket coming from that newest of housing conveniences to arrive in Pelican town.
The Telephone.
The thing she bought in order to keep track of stock prices from the townsfolk, only to find that the Wizard didn't have one. The exact person she needed the most information from. That giant purple fraud probably uses smoke signals from his infernal cauldron instead. Brown smoke from a skunk pelt means the new model year Junimo Huts have arrived, blue smoke from chipmunk dung means we've had to cancel your Golden Clock order but the newest Gold-Plated Lewis statues are half off.
Now very annoyed, Bobbi snatched the handset off the cradle and barked, "Ghostbusters, whaddya want?!"
A scratchy, squeaky, barely audible tape-recorded voice emanated from the ether within the earpiece:
Phone spam. From a Mouse.
This place is insane.
Gently placing the handset down, Bobbi tossed her dirties toward the hamper on the way to bed and resolved not to visit the southwest part of the Forest for at least 2 seasons.
In bed, drifting off to sleep, Bobbi wondered detachedly what she might look like in some Cat Ears...
However this particular late evening one lonely paramour seems to have it bad for the lost love of his abbreviated life as he's causing quite a stir from the far end of the house. Meh, he'll pipe down in a sec, I'll just water the Cactus while Mrs. Paramour wanders over. Chirpchirp! Hmmm, sounds more like ringring?
Did he find Grandpa's old ear trumpet in the cabinet somewhere? Ring Ring!
OK, that's enough. Nobody gets to be louder than Haley's snoring.
...
That was internal monologue, right? Bobbi looked towards Haley, already asleep in bed and discerned no response. Whew, that was close!
Wandering over to the Kitchen corner, Bobbi found not crickets, but an almighty racket coming from that newest of housing conveniences to arrive in Pelican town.
The Telephone.
The thing she bought in order to keep track of stock prices from the townsfolk, only to find that the Wizard didn't have one. The exact person she needed the most information from. That giant purple fraud probably uses smoke signals from his infernal cauldron instead. Brown smoke from a skunk pelt means the new model year Junimo Huts have arrived, blue smoke from chipmunk dung means we've had to cancel your Golden Clock order but the newest Gold-Plated Lewis statues are half off.
Now very annoyed, Bobbi snatched the handset off the cradle and barked, "Ghostbusters, whaddya want?!"
A scratchy, squeaky, barely audible tape-recorded voice emanated from the ether within the earpiece:
Phone spam. From a Mouse.
This place is insane.
Gently placing the handset down, Bobbi tossed her dirties toward the hamper on the way to bed and resolved not to visit the southwest part of the Forest for at least 2 seasons.
In bed, drifting off to sleep, Bobbi wondered detachedly what she might look like in some Cat Ears...
