The Brief Awakening of Dawn and Death 5

Western warriors of the east, you have returned for more about our beloved weirdoes. How kind of you. Just to let you know, we are returning to Morphinus’ point of view, which is a joyous occasion the whole family can enjoy, sort of like Christmas only not really because it’s nothing like Christmas. Anyway, onto what Morphinus has to say.

***

Ah, Sir Grinkledorf. He was real cheery fellow. I mean, I had just completely lied to him about having kidnapped his children to try and trick his Bulgarian sheep from Essex into performing Pygmalion, which they didn’t do anyway. But what they did do was infinitely more impressive in so many ways. First and foremost, hilarious, but also insightful, aesthetically pleasing, endearing and whimsical characters, fascinating plot development, as well as plot twist, and don’t even get me started on the lighting. I could go on, but I would be going on too long.

Sir Grinkledorf and I had been friends for three-hundred and sixty-two years, though it seemed like yesterday that we met. It was shock to see that he was behind all this Bulgarian sheep business. I mean, after their famous duckling performance, I couldn’t help but like them a little, but they were the ones who forced me to take up a career in destroying, the ones who wouldn’t let me sleep, the ones who drove me away from home and into Nurfenville, the ones who released Kevin on me, the ones who caused me to turn into a toucan by releasing Kevin on me, and the ones who killed Winifred Flammel and turned Derek bad. They were mean, heartless, callous, cruel, unforgiving, and, most predominantly, pure evil. The fact that their theatrical talent was astronomical doesn’t change that.

But, all are innocent until proven guilty. I wouldn’t judge Sir Grinkledorf just yet. There are two sides to every story, and I am yet to hear his.

Besides that, though, I was over the moon. I was alive again, and was reunited with my childhood best friend and my long lost brother. Though, I suppose, he wasn’t really long lost this time, since it was only about nine hours ago when I found him... Still, it was by far the happiest day of my life. The next of my loved ones I would aim to be reunited with was Denuloson, followed by Charles William Harrison Ding Dong McSheen Le Supercharge VII (my favourite pixie and the bear I gave birth to, in case your memory is failing you on this occasion).

But anyway, back to the story.

Loofentyle had just asked if he could go. His eagerness shocked me. I was his sister! Didn’t he want to become reacquainted with me as much as I did him?

“But, young friend,” said Sir Grinkledorf, almost as shocked as I was. “You’ve only just arrived, you can’t leave now! In fact, we simply must have a party to celebrate Morphinus’ return!”

Cheers filled the room. Streamers and party blowers that all the sheep conveniently happened to have were thrown around and blown. I just gave a happy squawk. A party in my honour! In my centuries upon centuries on Melvin’s green Earth, I’d never had such an appreciative group of friends, even if the vast majority of the ones here happened to be genocidal... But I was willing to look past such flaws. No one who throws parties in other people’s honour can be a bad man.

“Well, you can have a party without me, right?”

The words exited the mouth of Loofentyle. Why was he so persistent? Did... did Loofentyle not like me? I gave him a sad, soulful look of desolation.

He sighed. “Fine, I’ll stay,” he gave in. “I’d never find my way home, anyway...”

Well, if he didn’t like me, he was the nicest person I’d ever met. Good to the very soul. The room erupted into applause again at Loofentyle’s decision to stay.

“Excellent!” Sir Grinkledorf cried in ecstasy. “Mildred! Lights!”

The lights turned down low, and disco lights filled the room, presumably because of Mildred.

“Congrats, Mildred!” I yelled, strong and proud. “The lighting is perfect! If there’s anything that you want, if there’s anything I can do, just call on me, and I’ll send it along with love from me to you!”

There was a long silence.

“Malcolm!” Sir Grinkledorf eventually cried with even more enthusiasm than last time. “Call everyone in the address book and see if they can come! We’re going to make this the BEST NIGHT EVER!”

This time the sheep head-butted each other with joy. I would have joined in, but my beak would have done some serious damage, and I didn’t want to lose my new bezzies. After the head-butting session was over, Malcolm scuttled off to perform the deed.

Loofentyle and I began boogie. I was all over the place, but Loofentyle had gone for a rather unusual dance move. He just seemed to stare at me and never actually dance himself. When it occurred to me that this wasn’t a dance move, I attempted to eat him. The attempt was in vain, for Loofentyle threw me across the room. The sheep guards threw Loofentyle out of the party, not for throwing me across the room, but for being friends with a Japanese baker, known as Joey Starfonswigger to a guy from Denmark who really, really likes golf and once did a very naughty thing that only he knows about, and Toppy Hugsworth to everyone else.

I was sure Loofentyle was not friends with such a man, but he did not argue when they removed him from the building. He even began grin like a madman. Maybe he was. I remember when we kids, he used eat uncooked squid. I know he’s a different species to me, but I think that’s unusual behaviour even by hippo standards. On top of that, he once wore sandals with socks, ketchup and cotton wool, and as he was walking down the street the infamous Jerry “Handbag Hunter” Lumps began chewing on his ear, the crazy bugger.

I closed my eyes to take in the sensual movements of the atmosphere. They were devastatingly subtle. I would have thought, on a night such as this, the moon would have taken more... precautions, in order to avoid a visit from Trumpton Von Trainer. I mean, if he came along there isn’t really much they could do with all that ludicrous boloney the anti-bacterial losmasfecrume had lying around in case of unexpected attack of the elderly. That would really throw the Sombrero Kingdom’s nightlife countryside trampoline out of whack, and the FSATG (Financial Support for All Things Green) would be so angered by this they might even destroy the sacred painted radiator that Lopish has been after every day for the last twenty superior cinema screenings for that Algerian Influenza that’s been going around. Know what I’m saying?

My train of thought was interjected by the guests arriving. And, Melvin, they were a strange bunch.

There were a few more sheep, some Bulgarian, several goats, a couple of those living skyscrapers you hear about, but none of these regular creatures were what struck me most.

No, what struck me most was the two characters at the back of the group.

One was a cloud of green gas, and the other was a piece of bark. There were no other significant or distinct details about these two, that’s it. Gas and bark.

“How do you know these are guests? I mean, it really doesn’t seem like they are,” one might wonder. Well, the green gas guy was talking to the piece of bark as if it were his friend, and capable of making interesting conversation. Also, quite a few people were looking at them in a “who invited you?” sort of fashion.

As the pair came closer, I began to hear their conversation.
“...and that really just doesn’t make any sense!” said the GGG (Green Gas Guy). “What do you think, eh, Dorothy?”
Dorothy’s reply sounded uncannily like silence to me, but the GGG was positively flabbergasted. “Wow...” he breathed, nodding in agreement. “You’re right... I’ve never thought of it that way. So, you’re saying that if... yes. Yes, that would work... Goodness, you’re on a roll today, Dorothy!”
Okay, what? She didn’t say anything! That was weird even to me, and I turn into toucans.
I was about to lose interest in the freaks, when the GGG started actually RAINING CURTAINS. No joke, I was standing about six feet away from him, and curtains started falling from him like raindrops. It was like everything I’d ever dreamed of dreaming of crushed before my eyes. I felt a stabbing pain in my chest, so great I fell and almost passed out. All of my friends, both new and old, rushed to my aid.

“Oh, my Melvin!” cried Sir Grinkledorf. “Morphinus, are you quite alright?!”
Ha. To think, all these years, I’d never known Sir Grinkledorf was a fellow Melviner. I nodded to relieve him of his concern. He needn’t be worried about me. I’d lived through worse pain. Not only have I survived implosion, but also the worst pain any person can suffer, pain inflicted upon me by a certain fan club I could mention. In fact, I will mention, because I have absolutely no reason not to.

Nintendo... I swear, one day, I’m coming for you.

You have been warned.

“You know, if you’re really sick,” the GGG began to say. “Dorothy here could help. She’s quite the expert on well... everything, really!” He chuckled to himself. “Oh, Dorothy, do stop being so modest. You’re the most insightful person I’ve ever met. In fact, I’d go as far as to say you’re the most insightful person anyone’s ever met.”
I eyed Dorothy doubtfully.
I stood up, indicating that Dorothy’s services of expertise and insight were unnecessary for today.
“Ah, well,” said the GGG, pleased I was well, but also disappointed he never got to show everyone how amazing his lovely bark was. “If it ever happens again... well, you know where to call.”
I didn’t even bother telling him that I’d only just met him and had absolutely no idea where to call, because I was extremely sceptical of the fact that Dorothy was capable of doing anything more than nothing at all.

I decided to leave the memory of the freaks behind me. I had no desire to ever see them again. I decided to go and have a chat with the actor who plays the main character in Sheep Pygmalion. He’s the one who says “I say, I say, I say...” and all that.
I congratulated him on his performance; he congratulated me on my implosion recovery... All in all, it was pretty cool... until the freaks came back...

Once they had come over, the GGG immediately started bragging about Dorothy’s general awesomeness.
“Did you know that Dorothy can calculate anything you ask her to?”
“I should, you’ve said it about five times already,” said an irritated Mazuki (the sheep actor).
“Give it a try,” the GGG urged. “Come on, you’ll be surprised.”
I asked her for the answer to nine-hundred and forty eight times seven –thousand, two-hundred and sixty–four. Dorothy, of course, said nothing. The GGG, however, did not seem to be aware of this.
“See?” he said. “I told you she was a mathematical genius.”

It went on like this for what seemed like forever but probably wasn’t, because, eventually, there was a very, very small change of topic.
“Do you want to hear a funny story?” the GGG asked, eagerly.
“Would saying ‘no’ stop you?” asked Mazuki, less eagerly.
“No.”
“Then alright, go on.”
“Well, one night, me, Dorothy, and couple of friends decided to host a marvellous tea party. Only...” He had to pause because he was giggling so much. “Only... someone’s not invited!” He went into total hysterics. Neither I nor Mazuki let out even the smallest chuckle.
“...Is that it?” asked Mazuki, wholly unimpressed.
But that wasn’t it. The GGG dived into the oddest story I’d ever heard, and even after all these years, I’m still yet to hear a creepier one. See, during the marvellous tea party someone wasn’t invited to, they realised that none of them knew who wasn’t invited, so they went on a quest to find out. They eventually discovered it was their mothers, so they bought their mothers cream cakes. But, unfortunately, their mothers died, and at their funeral (which, for some reason, was in space), they threw their mothers’ coffin out of the glass dome graveyard thingy, and all kinds of other mental crap.

It didn’t sound like a real story to me. To be honest, it sounded like some rubbish two teenage girls made up, on the way home from school or something. You know, maybe one, (who could have been, like, half-Egyptian or something?) was heading home like a perfectly normal person, and then this blonde girl randomly decided to follow her all the way to her house and then just come home without even going inside even though she lives in the complete opposite direction about half an hour away (and that’s not even counting the additional time she takes up getting lost like she always does and yet never learns). Yeah, and then, maybe, while they were walking, they randomly started nattering about gas and bark going on adventures, possibly based around when Jack Sparrow says “We’re going to have a marvellous tea party and you’re not invited,” in ‘Pirates of the Caribbean’ that the half-Egyptian one is randomly obsessed with for reasons unknown. Just walking along talking about insightful bark, space funerals, and, I think, at some point, there was a signpost or a lamppost, or some other form of post, or perhaps that’s just the blonde one’s imagination. Maybe the half-Egyptian one could help her out, say, perhaps, in a Facebook message? Just to confirm that she’s right or wrong? The blonde one would appreciate it.

Or something like that, I don’t know. It’s not like I have any kind connection with either of these girls, especially not the blonde one who is definitely not writing this right now because she is just honestly sad enough to enjoy doing this with her spare time.

The world’s longest story still hadn’t finished even after I’d thought of all the above rubbish (which is absolutely and completely just rubbish and is no way something that actually happened), hours after it had started.
Luckily for Mazuki and me, Sir Grinkledorf was sending all the guests home because it was getting late, except me because he wanted to give me a proper goodbye.

The freaks left and I approached my old friend.

“Morphinus,” he said, beaming at me. “You stay in touch, now. Don’t be a stranger.”
I nodded.
“Good. Where you quite alright tonight?” he asked, concerned now. “You weren’t very talkative.”
I signalled to him that toucans cannot talk, only squawk.
“Yes, that’s what I thought,” he said. “But then, earlier, when I asked Mildred to do the lights, you congratulated her and then started quoting the Beatles, didn’t you?”
I shook my head.
“No, I’m sure you did,” he pressed. “Your exact words were ‘Congrats, Mildred! The lighting is perfect! If there’s anything that you want, if there’s anything I can do, just call on me, and I’ll send it along with love from me to you!’”
I had no recollection of such events. So, I asked about the whole genocide situation.
“Oh, Morphinus,” he said. “I wish I could tell you, I really do, but... I just can’t. I can promise you it’s not what it looks like, though.”
That was enough for me. I gave him a fond farewell and a warm hug.
“Ah, ’tis not farewell,” he said. “’Tis only a casual, short break from each other’s presence.”
I smiled, said goodbye Mazuki on the way out, and left, ready for new adventure.

And, as I left, I had the sudden urge to eat something.

The End

Dedicated to Sarah Moris, the half-Egyptian one. There, I put in both the things you asked me to, even though neither of us could really remember all of the sudden urge to eat something thing. Sarah, you crazy old hoot. :D.
And, just so you know, the blonde one wasn’t joking about that Facebook message because she really can’t remember about that signpost thing.

And, to the rest of the world, I’d just like to say only half the crazy was mine this time, so I’m not quite as mental as this might make one think... Okay, it was probably more 75:25, but still...