Agent Nora and the Freaky Bean

"hey fuzzball!" shouted Nora, "Atterpoop"! "stinkypants!"
The spiders tucked in their hairy legs and rolled around on the floor shaking with the giggles.
"they like this"said Elthir amazed, "try some more naughty words quick!".
you're a little Attercob,
In front of the tv
like a slob,
dribblin ketchup
like a knob
you're a little Attercat,
In front of the tv
happymeal fat
like a prat
or a twat
backwards
baseball hat.

"Quick RUN! said Nora, "I have dried up artistically".
They puffed and ran like mad away from the guffawing spiders, who were crying with laughter so much that they lost control of their web squirters.

THE PERFIKKLY TRUE SIDE STORY OF PETTY'S CHILDHOOD AND HOW HE BECAME MRS FIGG'S TERRIBLE TYRANT OF HER STORY (AND ALL).

Once upon a time, in a hole in the ground filled with the ends of worms and an oozy smell, Petty's Maw was loudly giving birth to a little wretch called Petty (only much later "Petty McTyrant" and later again [after Anglicisation] Petty Tyrant'). (Paw was out fishing for eels and duckweed in Uppercombukta Mire at the birthing time, 'tis said).

All the crones of the village were gathered. The most ghastly collection of knobbly foul teethed Scotshobbitwomen one could ever imagine - and one doesn't want to! (Though squat knobbly Scotshobbitmen found 'em comely enuff).

Mrs McCready was saying: "Push, Maw, push." (Funnily enough, Maw was both Maw and very shortly later a Maw, if you know what I mean). "Think of the Rangers - the whole lot of 'em -- at the upskirt'n'underkiltin' party last end'o'season!"

And Maw pushed and pushed and continuously proclaimed this ancient Hebridean mantra: "I think I can. I think I can." And, as it turns out, she could. But it was a difficult and messy birth, and when Petty popped out - a little oxygen deprived - the first thing he said was, "Ock tha noo! Thiz place iz sommit untidy.. Who husn't wootched the dishes, Maw?"

"Ooh what a precocious and particularly oddly mishapen Scotshobbitbaby he is, Maw."

("Some as say his real Paw is a haggis from Winkly Waters!" whispered Prelandra Pokklebukkar to Henny Hobblepopper, both notorious gossips and dried pouches).

"Aye!" said Maw, "It runs in the family, these peculiar scowling mishapen bairns."

"Barns?"

"Bairns, woman. Bairns!"

There was much rejoicing about the newborn arrival (after a fashion) and before you knew it, Petty was old enough to become a sturdy eel and duckweed hunter, just like his cantankerous Paw. But that's something for a later time (p'raps).

Your lack of inspiration is inspiring, Mrs Figg.

I dare anyone NOT to love this weirdness !

The forest grew darker and grimmer, and the trees looked half choked with fungus and slimy creepers that throttled them without mercy.
"poor trees", said Azriel, "theres something not right here, it smells funny".
"its probably my tights" said Petty, "theres no air flowing through this nylon".
"no theres something afoot" said Elthir, "theres a bad atmosphere".
"its probably that dirty great spooky castle up there", pointed Rodney, "who seemed to have a knack of obverving imminent doom.
They all looked up through the trees to a hill in the distance, it was ragged and ruined, it looked like the jagged bones of some huge dead creature. Large black carrion crows were circling over the sightless towers. A deadly mist curled on the ground around the foot of the hill.
"Leeeesten to the cheeeldren of the night, heeeeeaaarr how they seeeeng!" cackled Petty.
He got a punch on the arm for that.

"Won da I shall rule this place and huv an hooge castle to oppress all folks," young Petty was saying to his Paw as he traipsed in the mirey land looking for eels and duckweed." (An oppressive castle was indeed built there one day in the future, but as that comes in to another tale by another writer, I shall say no more here about that).

"Don't get too excited, Laddie, you'll have enough trouble overcoming eels and outwitting duckweed as it is - what with your genes and general mental capacity."

"Ock tha noo, Paw! You do make a laddie laff. I doen even wear jeans."

"'nough said. Aye."

"theres something not right here, it smells funny".
"its probably my tights" said Petty, "theres no air flowing through this nylon".


Leeeesten to the cheeeldren of the night, heeeeeaaarr how they seeeeng!" Slipping in a touch of Dracs ? very romantic goth.

aye nuff said.

Gary Oldman as Dracul

"I shall only hope it is my castle, Paw.. Ock za noo. But i fear it will huv been builded by some other more successful ogre or Scotshobbit."

"Shush, lad. I can hear the mild sound of duckweed whispers."

"Ock!"

"Quietly and quickly. Duckweed moves as fast as the speeding thought of a Scotshobbit 'tis said..."

"That sounds dangeruss, Paw."

"Aye! Aye, indeedy."

I liked Gary playing Dracula the best, even had a hot spot for Gary/Dracula when he was young,dark haired & chasing Winona Ryder

"There comes a time in any Scotshobbit's life that he must plunge deeply into the mire and confront his duckweed."

"Ock! But what if I'm injured or scarrited out of my kilt, Paw?"

"Then it will be said in later years that your tendancy to evil and pedantry and tidiness was born that day..."

"Ock!"

"... but it is a risk every Scotshobbitlad must take, Laddie -- else not be allowed to take the buckie!"

"Ock!"

I disapprove strongly- of everything!

"Don't rush -- speed is required, not haste, Laddie.. Oh Gawd! He's jumped right in."

For they had seen a huge mass of duckweed in a pond and Petty had plunged right in with skirts a'swirlin'. There was a huge dull splash - the noise subdued by the soft mossy succulence of the duckweed.

Petty came up gasping for air. "I'm droonin', Paw! I'm droonin'!"

Paw quickly hoisted him out.

"Ock, Paw!" Petty choked and spluttered on the bank. "That there duckweed is mindless and all-emcompassing -- like it's a great collection of microscopic fauna or sompin!"

"Indeed, Lad. It's an aqautic plant and no beast. You have learned your first major Hebridean lesson, Laddie. That being, 'Never mistake a vegetable for a bestial herring or other creature!' Aye."

"It's a bitter lesson, Paw. One that has made me bitter - in a trice!"

"Aye. Another saying there is, Laddie. 'When bitterness turns to crabbitness, then all the days and hours turn bitter and cranky and so the barrel is breached, and a Scotshobbitlad becomes a Scosthobbitmun."

"Ock!"

"Yes, Laddie. It's time we went to the tavern."

"But I am only a wee Lad of seven, Paw."

"Aye - but you are a slow starter in most things... It's our family trait and... shame..." And Paw's head dropped, and Petty saw the sad desperation in his eyes.

He so much wished to lift the shame from his Paw's brow, and a moment of inspiration came to him.

"Paw! I vow to becoom the greatest drinker of Buckie that ever was and so lift up the family name! Ock the noo if I doen't!"

And Paw had a glad hopeful tear in his eyes, but Petty pretended not to see it and he turned away. "Ock!" he said quickly. "Would that be an eel-swiggle in the waters?"

I swear Mrs Figg I hardly touched an eel, and I have certainly never snuck into your shop at night drunk to wrangle your eels. Never and I dont care who might claim to have seen me!

This is why some stories should NOT be told Archet Bugle!

Mrs Figg wrote:who were crying with laughter so much that they lost control of their web squirters.

and the baseball hat