‘I’d like to spend some time travelling with your group if you don’t mind,’ said Gahzoola the formerly fearsome giant rabbit.
‘No, not at all,’ said Bob, ‘Come with us. We would be happy to have you.’
‘Where are you going anyway?’
Bob laughed because he really didn’t know, ‘Well, actually we are on an adventure. We don’t know where we’re going. I guess you could say we are travelling until adventure finds us. Although, we have seen it a time or two so far. You can testify to that seeing as you were a part of it.’
‘Well, if you’re looking for more of the same I think I can help. The mighty giant of Quiniac, I hear, has a great treasure.’
This was quite an agreeable arrangement for our trio. Pill and Pesker seemed the most enthusiastic. And while Pill and Pesker were smiling and dreaming and Bob was looking into the distance the rabbit started to rapidly shrink as if he were a deflating balloon. (Could all flying rabbits inflate and deflate at will?) When all the aforementioned turned back to the rabbit they now noticed his diminutive size and gasped. He was now a curious and clever flying rabbit, ‘Oh, yes. I can shrink down. I prefer travelling in this size very much.’
So they stated their journey.
(On a side note the narrator was eaten by the flying flies of Easterham. He had spied what looked to be a gleaming pile of gems and went over to investigate, but it was really a fatty voracious Beezer’s manure pile. Needless to say, the flying flies of Easterham are never far when a Beezer has done his business. Why does a Beezer’s pile shine? No one knows for certain, but some say his pile is ‘cursed’ in that anyone who comes near will be greatly disappointed and this was the case for the narrator. We will not be hearing from him for the rest of the journey.)
But in any case the sun shone especially bright that day and its heat was not especially hot. As it was they were feeling rather comfortable. The grass was particularly lush and the road extraordinarily straight and smooth. The rabbit talked on and on about the cave they must travel through. Bob’s curiosity was aroused having never seen a cave, not even in a book. It seemed quite dangerous what the rabbit described however and he was a little fearful.
‘And so,’ said the rabbit, ‘We need not fear the nasty vampire bats or the carnivorous reptile swine, but rather getting lost and never finding the sun again, dying in total darkness. The cave lends itself to tens of thousands of passages that are dead ends. There is only one way out to the other side. I know the way or at least I think I do. I have a terrible sense of direction, you see, and get lost rather easily, but we’ll probably be alright. I hope.’
The road was long and both dusty and tiring, though straight and predominately without dips and elevated spots. Trees were beyond number, clouds puffy and then thinned out, grey and blue skies, red birds, purple birds, green birds, black and white squirrels – no dragons though, not since that one dragon. Everything was pretty ordinary since that UFO and the Pegasus.
No sooner was boredom in effect than a melody of flutes and happy piccolos reverberated in the bright sun. It came from the trees and sounded like a joyous celebration was about to begin. Indeed, they could hear laughing and shouting. There even seemed to be singing, but of a kind they had never heard. Between bass drumming and fluting were melodious grunts (in tune of course) interspersed with deep guttural harmony, words unidentified, if words they were, followed by a piccolo bridge – repeated like some crazy jazz moon dance.
Investigation seemed to be the likely course so Bob and the rabbit left the beaten path to spy and possibly crash the party, if it was a party. They didn’t have to go far either before they came to a display of streamers and balloons. (Talking balloons at that). There were Mahogany tables brimming with presents, dainties and one magnificent cake. The cake was so massive the table it was set on was expertly fortified so as not to buckle under. The icing was a kaleidoscope of the most beautiful colors of the rainbow swirled together. It was trimmed with red, purple and yellow flowers. So many gifts there were Bob wondered if it was not a birthday party for just one, but actually for a whole town or maybe a king.
These were not the greatest surprises of all, however. It was that all of the guests were pigs. The host was probably not a pig though. Pigs host lousy parties and this party had all the trimmings. What could we conclude? Who could beat an orchestra of flutes, piccolos and bass drums accompanied by an enthusiastic crowd of squealing, grunting singing pigs?
But this party was for a king for out of the foliage he appeared.
