*
Once upon a time… Well, actually, that was not quite true – because this did not really happen at all.
Let us start again:
Once upon a time that never was, there lived a purple Aardvark called Cecil. But he has got nothing to do with this story, so we shall forget about him.
Instead, we shall go to Australia – where a Duck Billed Platypus was making peanut butter sandwiches to take with him when he went to visit his friend Ernest the Wotnot.
He was called a Wotnot, because no-one was really sure what sort of creature he was. And he was called Ernest, because that was his name.
*
Meanwhile, on the third floor of a multi-storey dustbin in Arnold the Elephant’s back yard, Wallie Wurglesnip the worm was polishing his spectacles. As I am sure you can imagine, they tended to get very dirty since he lived in a dustbin. After cleaning them, he put his spectacles back on again and was surprised to see that there was someone in his living room. That someone was very furry and a bright shade of purple.
“Hello,” said Wallie Wurglesnip. “Who are you?”
“Well, hello to you, too,” said the furry purple stranger, brushing a couple of mouldy banana skins from his head. “My name is Cecil.”
“And what kind of animal are you?” asked Wallie.
“Can’t you tell?” asked the stranger, pointing to his long, thin nose.
“I’m sorry. No,” replied Wallie. “You don’t get to see much of the world when you’re living in a dustbin.”
“In that case, I had better explain: I’m an Aardvark.”
“Cecil the Aardvark?” asked Wallie, puzzled. “But I thought this story was nothing to do with you.”
“Yes, you’re quite right,” said Cecil. “I’m sorry for interrupting.”
He then blushed – although no-one could tell, because he was already purple anyway.
*
As Arnold the Elephant dozed in his rocking chair, he did not know what had been going on in his dustbin. But, even if he had known, he would not have cared, because – as I am sure you will agree – it was not at all important or exciting in any case.
All Arnold was thinking about was having a nice peanut butter sandwich with his night time drink. Unfortunately, he had no peanut butter – so he had to go without. Instead, he had to make do with cheese and jam, which was really not the same.
*
Of course, there was at least one lucky person in the world who did have some peanut butter. In fact, he had more than he could eat in a hundred years. This was because he owned a herd of special cows whose milk, instead of turning into ordinary butter, turned into – yes, you have guessed it – strawberry jam. But he did not like strawberry jam, so he traded it with a friend of his who owned a peanut farm.
This friend was Alexander Aristotle Applejack Antelopeter Andyknees Andrew Ackack, the Ant who had a wooden leg. His name was something of a mouthful, so everyone called him Robert.
Now, Robert was very good at his job, because he was just the right size to be able to milk an peanut.
(It was a pity Arnold the Elephant did not know him, because then he would have been able to trade some of his cheese and jam for a jar of peanut butter.)
*
One of Robert’s best friends was a certain Duck Billed Platypus, who – as I have already explained – was on his way to visit Ernest the Wotnot.
This little journey took him through the Magic Forest where the Spidercats lived, past the Wicked Vampire’s cave, over the bridge where the Nasty Nobbly lurked and close by the Haunted Castle. (£2 admission.) But, strangely enough, nothing bad happened to him.
“Ho hum,” he thought. “This visit is turning out to be more boring than I expected.”
At last, he arrived at Ernest’s house. It was a perfectly ordinary house, except for three things:
1) It was hanging from the topmost branches of a Smiggle tree.
2) It was tilted over onto its side.
3) It was inside out.
This meant that the Duck Billed Platypus had to climb the Smiggle tree, turn himself sideways and go inside the house to get outside the front door.
There was a note hanging from the door knocker, which said: ‘Dear Duck Billed Platypus. Sorry I’m not in, but I’ve gone out - and that is why I’m not here.’ – which quite amazed him, because he did not know that door knockers could talk.
*
In case you were wondering, Ernest the Wotnot had gone to a tea party with Cecil the Aardvark in Wallie Wurglesnip’s dustbin. But the party was rather spoiled by Arnold the Elephant, who kept crying because he still did not have any peanut butter.
“If only I’d known,” said Wallie Wurglesnip. “I would have invited the Duck Billed Platypus, too. Then he could have brought some of his perishing peanut butter sandwiches with him.”
“Why didn’t you, then?” asked Cecil.
“How many people do you think can fit into a dustbin, anyway?” said Ernest. “Especially since you know very well that you’re not even supposed to be in this story.”
“Yes,” agreed Wallie. “ For someone who isn’t here, you’re certainly causing a lot of problems.”
*
And everybody lived happily ever after… Which again is not quite true, because nobody did anything of the sort.
*
