WHOLESOME TALES

"THE TRUE TALE OF ODOETTE"

Once upon a time there was a sweet and innocent little girl...





CENSORED





.... and he has worked hard ever since to make Forumshire a respectable place to live.

The End


THE ALTERNATE BOOK OF WHOLESOME TALES
Published by the Archet Bugle
Sponsored by NOTP, Scotshobbiton, but censored by an anonymous censor.

I'm sure that the original tale was one of the Bugle's finest so far. Bloody censors ruining our stories!

It would, no doubt, have been a pack of lies, Eldo!

The Archet Bugle wrote:"THE TRUE TALE OF ODOETTE"

Once upon a time there was a sweet and innocent little girl...

CENSORED

.... and he has worked hard ever since to make Forumshire a respectable place to live.

The End


THE ALTERNATE BOOK OF WHOLESOME TALES
Published by the Archet Bugle
Sponsored by NOTP, Scotshobbiton, but censored by an anonymous censor.

Err.... Archet Bugle and News of the Pure in association? Wouldn't that be something of an unholy alliance?

Orwell wrote:Err.... Archet Bugle and News of the Pure in association? Wouldn't that be something of an unholy alliance?

Great, the journalists are collaborating now. This whole "free press" thing just gets better and better.

Sounds more like Communism to me.... but I'm not surprised, now that Lesbo and her modernist cohorts are running the once respectable Bugle... sad days ahead...

RASPBERRY SQUASH AND THE BAD CREATURE FROM THE BAD LAKE

Once upon a time there was a family of raspberry canes that grew near some trees a long way from any grassy banks in the lowlands, but quite close to a very bad lake, perhaps one of the baddest lakes in all of Forumshire. That particular fruiting season bore many fruits (raspberries) and amid a throng there was born the sweetest raspberry one could ever imagine. Her name was Raspberry Squash. (Now, this story begins in the time of Raspberry Squash the Third, who MUST not be confused with Raspberry Squash the First - who was juiced by King Roland the Sipper - nor that Second Raspberry Squash, who never went to Valinor - this Raspberry Squash was the apple of her Mother's eye and the banana of her Father's sensibilities).

One sunny day in this particular fruiting season - and no one knows if it was summer or autumn, winter or spring, because no one knows anything about produce nowadays, most thinking fruit comes from supermarkets or factories ---- anyway, one sunny day, a bad creature woke up with a gurgle and an air bubble at the bottom of the bad lake. The bad creature said, "Well, I'm fairly tired of eating fish all day, I think I might go snootling about and see if I can find some fruit to sup upon, and also thereby help avert this slowly acting but eventually fatal scurvy."

So the bad creature (with it's several bad heads on elongated stalks) crept out of the bad lake on it's eight bad legs (one on which was injured and made him limp badly - and teach him right for kicking that eel that was merely going about his business and didn't know the bad creature was asleep behind that under-lake fernery, and coming unexpectedly gave the bad creature such a bad fright ---- Yes, full steam ahead, I say, to that eel for kicking him back, sharp like! Btw this was in the days before eels had lost their legs and feet, though their arms had by then fallen off).

The bad creature blinked in the bright sunshine as the bad lake waters dripped from his bad scales to moisten the earth, leaving several puddles. Once his eyes had adjusted, the bad creature looked up the rise and saw - yes, and I'm sure you folk reading this can guess straight away - a raspberry patch.

The raspberries on the canes saw the bad creature shuffling up the rise.

"Ock no," cried Petty Tyrant Raspberry the Third. "It be a bonnie bad creature a'shufflin' up the very rise, un in the mornin'!"

You can imagine the consternation this caused!

"He's got the scurvy," said Eldorion the One-who-knew-these-Things. "I can see it in his bespeckled hide. There's two green speckles to every red one.... He'll be wanting vitamin C."

"And we know what that means," sighed Kafria Raspberry (the Third) who taught science at Raspberry Heights Prepatory School and knew a thing or two herself.

"No, what does it mean?" answered Ringdrotten Raspberry tensely. (He was a very old Raspberry who had just hung around on the cane longer than he should have - three seasons in fact. Some say he had a magic ring which he'd stolen from the Raspberry Danes, though it's thought rude to mention it). "But, no, don't tell me, for I fear the growing darkness..."

"It but be his great shadow!" Petty Tyrant gasped. "Ock nee no!"

"Someone wake up Queen Tinuviel the Ancient Raspberry," cried Gandalfs Beard Raspberry. "She'll know what to do."

"But she's gone off to Valinor," cried Saradoc Raspberry in despair. "And no one knows why."

"Ooooh..." whistled Baingil, "How mysterious." (And she did not say it just because I'm having trouble coming up with better ways of mentioning all the Forumshire Raspberries in this tale!)

Then some of the other Raspberries, Ally and Elthir the New-but-not-yet-Teased and anyone else I can't think of just now in the rush of storytelling-mode, began to sing:

"Oh please don't let the bad creature eat us,
Won't some Raspberry marry him,
He may be big and stinky,
And that marriage quite grim,
But it's the only way to save us,
(It's the birds we're waiting for),
Oh won't some Beautiful Raspberry marry that,
Horrible floravore!"

Now Raspberry Squash was a beautiful, respectable Raspberry, and the thought of marrying that bad creature from the big bad lake was plainly horrid, but her family being eaten by a lake dwelling creature was an idea that just could not be bourne. Also her heart went out to the bad creature because of his sad limp that she'd espied whilst walking up toward them, and she by very nature such a soft hearted raspberry. So, as the bad creature drew near, she cried out plaintively. "Please don't eat us, bad lake creature. Instead, marry me."

Then one of the bad creature's several eyes fell on the plump and lovely red raspberry, and he fell immediately in love, badly in love, for Raspberry was indeed very beautiful (as raspberries go).

The bad creature laughed in joy, "Och yee the merry-o, I'll indeedy marry yo, indeedy!" (He said this in such dialect, being a bad creature originally from a loch near Scotshobbiton, even though, as can be seen at the beginning of this tale, he could do proper English, when the mood was upon him).

And so, dutifully, Raspberry Squash went off with the bad creature to be married by Ruffledumpkin the Illuvataran Priest (and Chief Rabbit).

Before too much time had passed, Raspberry Squash and the bad creature had a daughter, and it was a miracle of sorts that this daughter, Squashmary, was not half bad, which suggests she got more of her genes from Raspberry Squash and not her Father. And they lived happily ever after for several years, right up until that sad day when the bad creature died of scurvy.


THE BIG BOOK OF WHOLESOME TALES
Published by THE ARCHET BUGLE
Sponsored by Odo R. Banks, esquire.

How very mysterious indeed.

Ummm.... interesting! You know, I just realized this story wasn't about rasberries, but actually raspberries
Too much buckie I suppose, but not enough to make me forget my fairness I forgive you, Orwell, as well as The AB. I'm sorry I'm not around as often as I should. Being Queen is a busy job!

But keep in mind gentlemen (and ladies), Beren is not so merciful

Errr... what's a "rasberry"?

it's a delightful little fruit in Valinor, I should bring you all some after my next visit!

This fruit Tin, does it ferment? ((( Petty's new line in rasberry buckie, I can see it now, 'fruit buckie for the ladies, all the goodness of real buckie but with a fruity bite', I'll be rich, best not tell Tin though, don't want to bother royalty with anything as trivial as crass money after all. I can live my dream and buy a field of buckie wells!! Oh I must have it, I must!)))

Ferment? Yes, I suppose so. However, my dear scottshobbit, they are very rare and hard to get. You see, once Sam came to Valinor, he started planting all new types of fruits and veggies and plants and trees with some help from yours truly He planted some seeds, and I danced around for a bit, and WHAMMO! we had plants. Every new dance I danced, a new plant would be created. Ever since my injury, however, I haven't been able to dance, and there has been a rasberry famine because of it! Very soon, they will be back on the market. If anyone was to make a profit off of them, now would be the time!

A raspberry shortage? This is terrible!

No no, RASberrry. quite different. They're commonly confused with raspberries,on the rasberry is a good deal larger and juicier

Larger and juicer, so more buckie for less volume, mmmm. Should be good for profits (or given its fruit from Valinot should that be prophets!)

Tinuviel wrote:No no, RASberrry. quite different. They're commonly confused with raspberries,on the rasberry is a good deal larger and juicier

Still terrible.

"Wholesome Tales Thread." Enough with the rasberries!

Quite right Odo. Best not draw any more attention to these rasberry things. Especially not any that might be considered, missing.

Now the rats are smelling of rasberries -- interesting smell, queer too, not like the sharp fresh raspberries at all, and new fangled and exotic by the sounds of 'em...

Which raspberry do you mean,

this one


or this one?

THE SWEET SAWGUH OF RASPBERRY SQUASH

Once upon a time there was a Raspberry who was sent by ship to her Fjordian relatives, the Herring family of Skattykatzenfjord. It was a dangerous journey over chill seas full of salty popsiccles (and popsiccle is not as easy to spell as one might imagine, indeed, the spelling can be quite troublesome, especially if you're too lazy to look up a dictionary). After many dark freezy nights under the Evenstar, and almost as many chill white frosted days, the little ship (out of Scotshobbiton-on-the-Coast) sailed into Skattykatzenfjord, where her uncle, Ringo Herring, met her.

"You may wonder why I had you sent here," Ringo told her once she had disembarked at the quay, his English excellent (for a native Fjordianlandian).

"In all truth, it was something I had pondered," Raspbery Squash (the Fourth) confessed. "I was picking capsicums and the next I knew I had a sack thrown over my head. The second thing, someone hit me with a blunt object to the head, and the next, I was in a cabin on the Dawn Treader heading for Fjordianlandia. The Captain said it was for the best."

"Indeed, it is. You see, there is a three headed troll (not your lilly livered English type troll) eating up the good citizens of Skattykatzenfjord."

Raspberry Squashed sighed heavilly. "Will, I have to marry him?"

"Oh no - it's a she. We need you to kill the creature."

"But I am just a young sweet and fragile raspberry, how come you don't get some great hero, or a cohort of Ninjas, to do it?"

Ringo blinked. "You know, we never thought of that. Anyhow, your Grandma Betty sent us a letter in which she said you were a fearsome doughty warrior with steel in your eyes."

"Oh no, I'm a toothsome juicy raspberry with just the faintest hint of wild heather."

Ringo blinked again. "Grandma's Fjordianlandian was never brilliant. Oh well, here is your sword. It glows blue when goblins are nearby."

Taking the proffered sword, Raspberry Squash said, "But I thought you wanted me to kill a troll?"

"That's right. A big fierce beast too. You'll hear it coming for miles. Off you go then. Just follow the yellow brick road - but don't talk to the Munchkins - depraved little beasts."

And so off little Raspberry Squash had to go, shivering and shaking in her kneelength red boots, shuddering and snootling in her pretty yellow frock, and staring and stuttering in her feisty green cap. Up though the town, past all the herring benches and herring tables and herring bone clothes shops, she went.

Thump-thumple-thumpar!

"Oh my goodness gracious me, what's that?" Raspberry Squash asked. She had just reached the Last Homely Herring House at the top of the valley above Skattykatzenfjord.

Thumple-rumple-bumple!

The heavy trudging sound resounded in the mountains above Skattykatzenfjord and all the way down to the herringries on the coast.

"I wonder if that's the troll?" Raspbery Squash asked, but no one answered, because all the people in that part of Skattykatzenfjord had already been gobbled up.

Now, Raspberry Squash was feeling very uneasy. She was a young raspberry, somewhat plump, and definitely tasty looking, but was that no reason to be thought of as troll food? And that's exactly what the troll was thinking.

"Fie foe fie thumb,
I smell the juice of an English plum."

That's what the troll began to sing.

"Fie foe fie pearl,
Is that the smell of a juicy girl?"

Of course, this was sung in Trollfjordianlandian, and the romance and delicacy of her song is probably lost in translation. Whether romantic or not, Raspberry Squash was terrified, and well she might, for the troll was at least six foot tall and had three of the ugliest heads you could ever meet - imagine Hitler, Stalin and Mussolini (on a good day), and you'll get the idea. You can well imagine what our poor little raspberry was thinking.

But she was a brave little Raspberry and she held up her sword.

"Oh great, " she moaned. "It's gone bright blue. Fat good that'll be...."

But it wasn't fat good at all, it was thin good, very thin good in fact, for it meant goblins were nearby. And "goblin" in Fjordianlandian means "troll hunter." And when a very bright translucent blue sword in Fjordianlandia shines it suggests "a whole troop of troll hunting goblins who are kind to raspberries". Now, you probably already knew that, but Raspbery Squash had no idea, and so she thought it meant the goblins were coming to compound her problems.

"Even if I kill that troll, those goblins will eat me. I may as well give up now." She dropped her shoulders and tossed the blue sword away.

Out of the rocks just then jumped the Goblin King (Eric the Brazen), and what do you know but the sword falls at his feet, and he is overjoyed to see it.

"Well, ock the nelly nooodle," says he, for he was a goblin formerly from the Scottish Hebrides. "Thars the magic swordy-thingee from me Homenlundy."

Then King Eric saw the troll approaching (bundle-cumble-grundar-garba-bab) down the hill on her four promethean legs.

"Eegad! Za-nock za-noo za-barnacle!" Eric cried out. "It beein a troll of evil proportions! Get to it, laddies and ladies!"

And all the lads and ladies in the goblin troop bounded from the rocks all around and set to against the troll. In no time at all, the troll was mincemeat, neatly packed in hessian bags.

"Oh me dearie direy my-heart-o," says Eric, wiping blood from his hair and addressing Raspberry Squash with a keen eye. "Yoee be a bonny particle. Would ye marry mee, mee darlin'?"

Raspberry Squash burst into tears. "Of course I will," she weeped in joy, for isn't it every young raspberry's dream to marry a goblin king and not be eaten by him?

And in a few days, the bells of Skattykatzenfjord were ringing, and the herring grills were smoking beautifully, and a great feast was held, and King Eric married Raspberry Squash (the Fourth), and they lived happily ever after; for is it not always the truth, that every young girl in her heart of hearts desires to marry a strong male who might rule over her?

Ticklums in severe pain! Need medical attention! Not feeling crabbit at all now!!! Help!

What a wonderful contribution to literature - The Sweet Sawguh of Raspberry Squash, is it? Marvellous! Someone should promote this publication...

THE SAWGUH OF THE CHOCOLATE TEAPOT

Once upon a time there was a Tinkerer, a Fjordian Tinkerer. Now, as you know, Tinkerers tinker with all sorts of things, making horses out of crayons, or kilts out of thistlebushes, or spaceships out of herrings. The Tinkerer of our story preferred to work in chocolate. Funny, because he was allergic to it and always had to wear protective clothing and three pairs of gloves. If he didn't, his throat would swell up and his legs quiver and his Fjordian sporran would rattle. His name was Putty McTyrant, formerly from the Scottish Hebrides, but he had been living in Skattykatzenfjord in Fjordianlandia for yonks.

Putty had a little shop in the marketplace of the town. One day, he was contemplating his row of chocolate teapots, when he had a brainwave.

"Ock the noo za nellikins!" says he. "I've never in mee holl life made an herring flavoured chocolate teapot. And it being so obvious nowin I'm thinkin on it now!"

So he went next door and saw Ringo Herring, the Herring Man.

"What would you like today, my friend?" says Ringo. "Mind, we only have herrings."

"I'd like some of your best herring oil," says Putty. "The stronger the herringness, the better."

"Best heringness don't come cheap," Ringo answered somberly, "but if you're willing to pay, I can supply the market."

"Indeedy I do want on it. The best can only doo, me laddie."

So Ringo opened his combination safe (after blindfolding Putty first) and withdrew a small vial of the strongest herring oil that could be found in all of Skattykatzenfjord on that or any other day (except Thursdays).

Putty's eyes lit up. "I'll have to get a note from the bank," says he. And once he had got the note from the bank, the property transaction was made, and Putty returned to his own shop, having placed goblin guards at the front and back doors and a small but vicious dragon on the roof.

All that day, and half the next, Putty tinkered. Sweat formed on his brow, only to be wiped away carefully with a cloth by his buxom wife Grunhilda; and his arms became weak; or, at least, his lower arms and hands, especially the fingers; and he was forced to change gloves seven times due to sweatiness. At last, however, he had tinkered up the finest herrigingeeus chocolate teapot that was to be seen and admired in all of Skattyktzenfjord all the lifelong day. People from all over Fjordianlandia and Noble Danegeld came to see, and were suitably impressed.

And even today, if you were to go to that little Tinkerers shop in the marketplace at Skattykatzenfjord, you would still be able to admire that wonderful herring flavoured chocolate teapot. Indeed, if you were to pay Putty's great great great great grand daugher, Helga, the seven million and twenty seven pounds it is worth, it could certainly be yours.