Writers' Cottage

Sunday, March 19, 2006

In The Jungle


Mr Rugger/les has moved in so I have moved out. The man tried to kill me once, rather messily as well, and I don't really want to be around him. Rebecca tried to say that he probably wouldn't try to kill me again but I don't care. I've taken BUN-NY and all my fluffy stuff, Backstreet Boy CDs and photos of the postman and moved into the jungle. I have a very comfy pink tent.

It's quite peaceful out here. I hadn't quite realised how big this jungle was until now. Some huge cat with orange and black stripes tried to eat me but I clubbed it over the head with a sack full of fluffy stuff and it's quite tame now. He's called Spot and he is now my bodyguard for when the evil man comes back, though hopefully he won't find me in the jungle.

Mr Cricket came to see me. He's worried about me living in the wilderness alone. I pointed out that I wasn't alone since I had BUN-NY, and now Spot, but he looked even more concerned. He wants me to move in with him. I think he's rather lonely now that Mr Polo and Mr Rugger/les have gone. I said thank you but I think I'll stay in the jungle for now. I like it out here. I've been reading books of magic spells and I've found this really cool piece of magic that I want to try. I'm going to collect all the ingredients while I'm out here.

Saturday, March 11, 2006

Nervous Breakdown Time


It's getting silly. Do you know how poor we are? So poor that we can only go online about once a week!

Stehp is trying to formulate a plan to get us out of this mess but Cardboard Kidnapped Brian is doing nothing! And he won't get out of the damn bathroom and I really need to go. And Gareth's had a complete nervous breakdown.

Speaking of nervous breakdowns... There's something mighty odd about that Mr. Ruggles. Namely, I don't think he's Mr. Ruggles at all. When we were daisy picking he started laughing manically and shouting, "YES, KILL THE DAISIES!" Which isn't the sort of thing Mr. Ruggles would say. And when he was holding my hand he started to squeeze it. So I pulled away from him, thinking maybe he was Mr. Rugger in disguise and when I wouldn't talk to him he burst into tears and cuddled his pet cats (fantastic since they are svage clawing beasts). So he can't be Mr. Rugger either.

I decided to go for a walk to figure it out. Yes, a walk, as I am no longer wheel chair bound. I popped over to Mr. Cricket's house and saw Mr. Polo was leaving. His crowd of screaming fans went with him. He left dressed as a knight and riding a white stallion. So now he's gone everything sucks so I went back to the cottage and said as much and Steph yelled at me, saying now I knew how she felt. No idea what she's on about.

Cardboard Kidnapped Brian was still hogging the loo and Gareth the fridge. And BUN-NY is helping Steph with her plan. And Frankfurt is practising an operetta. So there isn't much for me to do.

I decided to dig for gold in the trench, to help us out but that evil guy turned up and said if I found any it belonged to him and to make sure I didn't thinkhe was mucking around, he shot us ALL in the head. Luckily we were all wearing hats.

Then Mr. Rugger/les turned up and I wasn't in the mood. He's sp useless compared to the evil guy and he started crying again and twitching and said that was exactly the problem. He's not evil enough or nice enough. He's just plain Ruggles Cricket, Mr. Cricket's brother. Everytime he does anything too nice he gets angry and smashes something and everytime he does anything to nasty he gets upset and cuddles something. The man's insane. But he's begged us to let him stay (his nervous breakdown is due to living with the two nicest men on Earth but he can't go home because the evil guy sank it)

So since Brian's bed is free, Ruggles Cricket has moved in. A mistake, obviously, but in times of utter evil, we have to band together.

Tuesday, March 07, 2006

Shot And Broke


We're in trouble. Every week Mr Evil has been turing up for his "rent" and every time he shoots Gareth in the head. Once of these days he's really going to do soem damage. I think gareth is going to pieces. He won't come out of the fridge and he keeps gibbering about guns. I tried to lure him out with a jam tart but he just sat and rocked himself.

We're running out of money and neither of us dares think about what will happen if Mr Evil turns up and we can't afford to pay him. We can't afford a funeral for any of us!

Rebecca doesn't seem to care. She's never in the house now and when she is here all she ever talks about is Mr Ruggles. I have to admit that the man is rather nice and fluffy at the moment.

I really miss the postman but he sent me a lovely long letter last week so I'm feeling better now. He says he misses me and his teddy bear, but his hero trianing is going well. Apparently nobody will ever be able to scare him again when he comes home. Hmmmm.....

I tried to arrange a cottage meeting for tonight but Gareth was too busy crying and muttering to the carrots in the fridge and Rebecca was out picking flowers with Mr Ruggles so the meeting consisted of me, cardboard kidnapped Brian and BUN-NY. We tried to formulate a plave to take care of Mr Evil. While we were doing that he turned up, opened the fridge and shot the carrot Gareth was munching on before taking the last of our money.

I've found a book full of magic spells. Desperate times call for desperate measures.

Monday, February 06, 2006

It's time to be bold


Steph seems upset. I have no idea why. But she seems to be particularly distressed whenever the post arrives and has a new aversion to stamps. If she so much as sees one she starts screaming and makes a bonfire out of it. Odd.

We (by 'we' I mean 'Gareth' because I really didn't care) took her to see Mr. Cricket, hoping that would cheer her up. He was very welcoming. Well, to Steph anyway. And quite a bit to Gareth. In fact, BUN-NY and Frankfurt didn't do too bad either. Just me that seemed to be a bit ignored. And Mr. Polo was busy all evening giving us exciting lectures on his next adventure, which is apparently going to be soon, as it coincides with his new Country and Western tour.

It was quite a nice evening as we almost forgot about the looming threat of the new landlord. And we've recovered from the fact that Brian may have been kidnapped by him, by writing 'Brian' on my cardboard cut-out and sticking it in the toilet. It's like he never left.

Oh... and that other one... what's his name? We can none of us ever remember these days... Mr... Mr.... Rugger! That's it. Anyway, he was there, at Mr. Cricket's house. But none of us spoke to him. Just doesn't seem much point any more. He's hardly what you could call evil when you compare him to the new landlord. He's just sort of pathetic. But he spent all evening in a shadow in a corner and if any of us HAD to notice him because we needed to go near the corner, we couldn't help but notice how he was twitching. He's been wearing a pink cardigan. And stroking it.

What the hell was that? Some sort of noise. Not a bang. At first we thought it was the new landlord come to kill us, so we cried, "He shall no longer dominate us! It's time to be bold!" and all hid in the fridge. That was a few hours ago and I've just climbed out because I cannot stand being so near Gareth and Steph. Well, his hair gets everywhere and Steph insisted that Stabby needed to hide too. But it wasn't a bang... was it a pop? No... what was it? Do I dare look outside?
OH! It was a gnawt.
That Mr. Ruggles is back. I guess living with Mr. Cricket AND Mr. Polo was just too much for old what's-his-name.

Friday, February 03, 2006



The postman is gone!


He says he has gone on an adventure around the world to become a hero so that he may come back and save me from the malevolent new landlord of Acrid Island. For now he's left his teddy bear to look after me.

I can't help but suspect he's actually gone to see if he can complete his stamp collection.


Saturday, January 28, 2006

This didn't happen once upon a time...


I never thought I'd see the day that Mr. Cricket, Mr. Polo and Mr. Rugger rode a tandem (with an extra (pink) seat screwed on).

But that was today.

Heroism in Small Doses.


At long last the hole in my hair has grown back. That's fortunate. Unfortunately the same cannot be said for the hole in my fez.

So. The insane grip of revenge, then.

"No," I told myself, "this man would just as soon shoot a hole in my trilby, Homburg and emergency fedora as look at me. An attempt at retribution will be pointless!" Nonsense, I said to my conscience. And we argued for a while, and just as I was all set to find this cruel new landlord and slap him with my duelling glove, he burst in the door and demanded more rent.

And shot me again.

At least this time no hats were damaged, although I confess to having a sizeable bloody hole in my foot. Thankfully we have a handy (though antiquated) First Aid Kit, containing an illustrated copy of Dr Erik Grunthos' What To Do With Wounds. I read it and patched myself up. And then had a jolly good hide in the fridge.

And that's where I've been for some time now.

The time for hiding, whimpering and occasionally speaking in tongues due to the pain is over. I have contacted the landlords - the heroic-when-the-occasion-calls-for-it Mr Cricket, the heroic-when-the-occasion-doesn't-call-for-it Mr Polo, and the wouldn't-be-heroic-if-the-occasion-demanded-it-in-writing Mr Rugger, the latter of whom is currently displaying fascinating new mental tics caused by his new living quarters. He's often so pleased by his fellows' charming behaviour that he goes all quiet, stares with happy wide eyes, and laughs gaily. To some this would look like the behaviour of a distraught madman, but I have read Dr Erik Grunthos' What To Do With Brains That Aren't Working Properly. And I say he's fine.

We were figuratively off to war when, much to our dismay, the level of snowfall actuall caused the corner of Acrid Island to sink a little. It won't last long (snow, as it happens, melts in water), but we've seen it as a good enough - erm, I mean serious enough - setback to abandon the project until further notice.

And now, I'm delighted to tell you that there is actually room for three in this fridge.

Mr Rugger doesn't think so, or at least that's what I took his wordless quivering to mean. Strange man.

Monday, January 09, 2006

The Threat Of Evil


Christmas was surprisingly quiet. We spent most of it staring at the door, waiting for the evil man to come back. Every time we heard footsteps we'd all jump but he never appeared. The suspense is killing us though. What does he want? Is he not even going to come back and ask for his next lot of rent? I don't think it matters. We've all sent the second cheque off already.

Brian still hasn't turned up. I went for a walk with BUN-NY to see if we could sniff him out but BUN-NY was more interested in playing in the snow. It's hopeless! What are we going to do if the evil new landlord really has kidnapped him? We're all too cowardly to go to the rescue! Gareth has already been shot in the head!

I spent Christmas with the postman and on Boxing Day we went to visit Mr Cricket and Mr Polo. Mr Rugger has moved in with them and he was sat in a corner looking very sullen as we all pulled crackers and played charades. He kept eyeballing me and the postman and after a while he shuffled up to us and asked us if we were still afraid of him because he was still going to try and destroy us at some point and we'd better watch out because he's the most evil person around. Mwahahahahaha.

I corrected him. No, he is certainly not the most evil man around. He's what a bunny rabbit is to a yeti compared to the new tower of evil that has invaded the island. And then the postman told Mr Rugger off for trying to kill us in his taxi and said he'd tie Mr Rugger up in a post bag and post him to the North Pole or some other horrible place if he didn't behave. Mr Rugger looked like he was about to cry and then shuffled back to his dark corner of the room where he didn't say anything for the rest of the day. The postman was very proud of himself and looked brave for the rest of the day.

It didn't last though. He later came round to see me at the cottage gibbering and clutching his teddy bear. The evil man showed up at his cottage and demanded rent. When the postman said no, the evil man shot his teddy bear and then shot the postman! I've had to bandage his leg up and fix the teddy bear. He stayed the night to recover from the shock seeing as he didn't want to go back to an empty house. I don't mind having him here. I'm trying to pysche him back into hero mode so that he'll go and rescue Brian. At the moment though he's just sat on the floor rocking.

Where's a hero when you need one?