The (Magic) Custard Factory

Two towns over and six towns across from where you live stands an old factory. It used to make paint. Red paint, blue paint and – my favourite – yellow paint.

But now it makes custard. Lots and lots of it.

Oodles, in fact.

Did you know that all the world’s custard is made in this one small factory?

It’s true!

And not only that. It’s all made by Imps.

Tiny, hardworking, custard-making Imps.

How they came about the factory isn’t imp-ortant, but it’s what they did with it that counts. That is - as long as you like custard.

(Which I do. Do you?)

Now, every morning at sunrise the factory horn sounds. The Imps appear from wherever Imps come from, and they start up the BIG GREEN MIXING MACHINE with a RUMBLE and a GRUMBLE and a BIG CLOUD OF STEAM. Then they work until bedtime when they disappear with a POP! and a smell like boiled socks. And behind them they leave oodles and oodles of yummy yellow custard.

The very first time the Imps came to the factory they didn’t know that the machine was meant for mixing paint. They didn’t know what it was meant for at all.

All they knew is that they were both curious – and hungry...

The Chief Engineer stood on a big yellow barrel and was giving out orders when he spotted the machine.

‘What is this thing?’ he asked.

‘A toy maker!’ cried the workers.

‘A jelly shaker!’

‘A belly acher!’

‘Nonsense,’ said the Chief. He’d also spotted a big chute in one end of the machine, and above it was a sign which said: INGREDIENTS IN HERE.
‘It’s for making some kind of food,’ said the Chief.

So the Chief ordered the Imps to go and look for ingredients to put in the big machine. The workers ran off to see what they could find.
Sometime later returned with an enormous bucket covered by a lid.

‘So what have you got?’ asked the Chief.
‘Just what you asked for,’ the workers replied, opening the bucket. Inside were lots of fat creepy-crawlies feasting on some cake.

‘No-no-no!’ cried the Chief. ‘I said INGREDIENTS, not GREEDY ANTS! But it’s all we have, I suppose. In they go.’

‘In they go!’ sang the workers and they tipped the greedy ants down the chute.

‘Now let’s see,’ said the Chief and he pulled the machine’s BIG GREEN LEVER.

It RUMBLED and it GRUMBLED and let out a BIG CLOUD OF STEAM.

And out of the end came ANT PASTE. The Chief dipped his finger in.

‘Mmmm – not bad,’ he said, ‘But it’s TOO RUNNY.’
So the Chief ordered the workers to find something to help THICKEN the RUNNY ant paste.

They ran off to see what they could find.

Sometime later they returned with two cages. In one was a small white hen, and in the other a large brown rabbit.

‘What’s this?’ cried the Chief. ‘I said THICKEN and RUNNY, not CHICKEN and BUNNY! But it’s all we have, I suppose. In they go.’

‘In they go!’ sang the workers and they tipped the small hen and the large rabbit down the chute.’

‘Now let’s see,’ said the Chief and he pulled the machine’s BIG GREEN LEVER.

It MUMBLED and it BUMBLED and let out a BIG JET OF FLAME.

And out of the end came CHICKEN AND RABBIT AND ANT SLUDGE. The Chief dipped his finger in.
‘Mmmm – not bad’, he said, ‘But it needs more TASTE.’

So the Chief ordered the workers to find something to enrich the flavour.

Sometime later they returned with a bent-up old woman in a pointy hat who was busily scratching letters into big silver trophy.

‘What am I to do?’ groaned the Chief. ‘I said ENRICH the FLAVOUR not A WITCH ENGRAVER! But it’s all we have, I suppose. In she goes.’

‘In she goes!’ sang the workers and they tipped the witch and the trophy down the chute.’

‘Now let’s see,’ said the Chief and he pulled the machine’s BIG GREEN LEVER.

It TUMBLED and it FUMBLED and let out a BIG BURP OF GAS.

And out of the end came WITCH AND CHICKEN AND RABBIT AND ANT GOOP. The Chief dipped his finger in.

‘Mmmm – not bad’, he said, ‘But it needs more COLOUR.’

So the Chief ordered the workers to find something to help imp-rove the colour. They ran off to see what they could find.

Sometime later they returned empty handed.

‘What happened?’ asked the Chief.

‘Shops are shut,’ said the workers.

‘What about that?’ asked one of them, pointing to the BIG YELLOW BARREL the Chief was standing on.
‘Well then,’ shrugged the Chief. ‘It’s all we have, I suppose. In it goes.’

‘In it goes!’ sang the workers, and they heaved the barrel into the chute.

‘Now let’s see,’ said the Chief and he pulled the machine’s BIG GREEN LEVER.

For a long while, NOTHING HAPPENED.

Then it JUMBLED and TRUMBLED and let out a big WHOOSH of SPARKS.

And out of the end came...

Yellow Stuff.

The Chief dipped his finger in.

‘Mmmm – not bad, he said, ‘It’s THICK and TASTY and YELLOW.

I think I’ll call it...

PICKLE!’

********************************* THE END