Fixing Humpty

Humpty Dumpty sat on a wall,

Humpty Dumpty had a great fall,

All the King's horses and all the King's men,

Couldn't put Humpty together again.

The soldiers stood in their plush red uniforms in front of the wall,
their bayonets resting in the crooks of their arms. They stared in
horror at what was before them.

Humpty Dumpty, with his warm orange guts spewing out over the road, his
shell smashed and scattered, his gooey white spattered, lying there in
cracked shell and sticky puddles on the ground.

Captain Barrymore clicked his tongue, lost for words.

There was a silence so deep you could hear a sheep bleat a mile
away.

Corporal Ross cleared his throat nervously.

"Poor guy," he muttered, "just sitting there on a wall, minding his own
business, doing no harm to nobody and then?"

A barely perceptible wince flickered through the ranks.

"?Scrambled?" said Sergeant Redgrave.

Captain Barrymore shook his head.

He abruptly straightened up.

"Right, soldiers! Our orders say put this poor feller together! Why're
you all standing there like cabbages? Get yourselfs moving, pick up the
pieces, and DON'T TREAD IN 'EM! That means YOU Corporal!"

The Corporal's head snapped around.

"Yes sir!" He saluted hurriedly.

"Is that CLEAR?"

"Yes SIR!" barked the soldiers.

"Get on with it!"

"Yes SIR!" The black busbies swooped down like vultures, the soldiers
began picking up pieces of shell, scooping up sticky handfuls of white
with their hands, lips twisting in revulsion.

Captain Barrymore gazed around him.

He looked at the horses.

They looked steadily back.

Barrymore's frown deepened.

One of them flicked an ear lazily. "What?" she said.

"What are you doing, standing idle?"

Her ear flicked again, she blinked.

"I'm a horse," she stated.

"And?"

The mare snorted. "I don't tidy up eggs."

"That's not what it says here," accused Barrymore, waving a scroll
under her nose, he opened it and intoned grandly:

"All the Kings horses and all the Kings men
Will try to put Humpty together again."

There was a flurry of manes as the horses snorted derisively.

"Those are our orders," snapped Barrymore, "straight from the palace
itself."

Whinnies of laughter, which subsided as the horses realised that
Barrymore was deadly serious.

"But we can't do it," said a stallion, "we'll tread on the shell and
it'll break? If you had to control four legs at once you'd know what I
mean."

"Orders are orders," stated the Captain.

The horses looked at each other.

"Pretty stupid orders," said the mare.

The Captain's eyes narrowed dangerously.

"Those orders come from King Cole himself!"

"So?"

"That's blasphemy! Do you know you can be executed for saying something
like that?"

"I'm a horse."

Barrymore trembled with anger.

"Do you think that excuses you from capital punishment?"

The mare tossed her head.

"All right, we'll clean up the damned egg."

"Good! I should think so too. You horses should learn to respect your
superiors, not talk back in this obstinate fashion!"

The mare shot him a withering glance.

"Don't you look at me that way, come back here! Come back right
this-"

"Sir! We need glue, sir!"

"What's that Corporal?"

"We need super glue or summing sir, the rope isn't working, Mr Dumpty
keeps coming undone an' he's loosing all 'is vital fluids."

"Well, I don't have glue, just keep trying!"

"'s very important, vital fluids," continued Corporal Ross obstinately.
"He won't survive without 'em."

There was a loud crunching sound from the direction of Humpty.

"Sir! Sir! The horses keep treading in 'is shell."

"Aw, call them off sir!"

"I don't care, King's orders," said Barrymore stubbornly.

"'s very important, shell," muttered Ross. "'E won't survive without
'is shell, no way."

"Get back to work Corporal!"

"You're making a right pig's ear of this sir?"

"What was that Corporal?"

"Nuthin', sir?"

"I don't think that was 'nuthin'!' I think that was something! D'you
know you could be executed for saying something like that?"

"I didn't say nuthin', sir?" continued Ross sulkily. "Mr Dumpty won't
survive without his vital fluids sir."

"Get back over there, Corporal!"

"Yes, sir." Ross saluted, rolling his eyes, and marched off.

Captain Barrymore watched him reach the egg. He watched as the rope was
once again tied around Humpty's scarred and broken middle, watched as
the knot was pulled a little tighter, a little tighter, a little too
tight, watched as a lacing of cracks flickered out from his wounds, all
over his broken shell, watched as orange and white tears trickled down
the curved sides, watched as the tears turned into streams and the
streams turned into a gooey waterfall which spattered over the
soldiers' shiny boots and bayonets, stuck to their smart black
trousers, deluged their red sleeves and their wrists and hands as they
struggled in vain to hold it back. Humpty's white and yolk oozing over
the road, soaking into the grass at the side, soaking and drying as the
men tried to scrape it up, tried to pick out the tarmac, drying all the
time, and before anybody could take in what had happened it was a hard
orange crust on the road.

Corporal Ross gazed in sorrow at what was left of Humpty Dumpty, and a
single tear carved its way down his orange, yolk-smeared cheek. He
looked at Sergeant Redgrave.

"There ain't nothing there any more," he said, "his soul's hatched
out."

He sniffed, and wiped his eyes, then forced a smile. "But he was a good
egg? He'll get into heaven easy, bless 'im."

They watched as a beetle scurried over one piece of shell.

"Poor bugger," muttered Redgrave, "there was never any hope."

And Captain Barrymore looked on, and shook his head.

They doffed their busbies in respect, and the clouds drifted above
them, and the grass sparkled in the sun, and somewhere far away a
cockerel crowed, unaware that there was one less egg in the world.