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"My brother's name isn't Tim, y'see. It's Tom. And this, as you are about to learn, is highly significant. At least, from your point of view it's highly significant. Yes: his name is Tom Haile Significant!"
Footsore was flabbergasted.
"I'm flabbergasted!" he said.
"I could have predicted you'd say that," said Tam. "But there's more. Much, much more. Oh yes!"
And he continued ....
"You see Tom and I are twins, only from different fathers, which explains the different surnames but not how we can be twins. No-one knows that, not even either of our dear mothers. But that's not important right now.
"Now because we are twins, we have a strange connection, as twins often do, and the each of us knows what t'other is thinking before he has even thought it. Why just the other day I said to Tom 'Hey Tom, you're about to think how nice a cup of tea would be right now' and Tom said to me 'Tam, you're right, at this very minute I'm thinking how nice a cup of tea would be right now, put on the kettle will you?'. Uncanny, you'll agree.
"One day, Tom was walking through a local market and he came upon a strange and twisted twig being sold by a strange and twisted man. This man had an obsession with mushrooms of a peculiar shape and he had taken to carving them from bits of wood that he found in the forest. This wood was enchanted wood and ...
it was alive!
So whilst the carver thought he was making a unique shape, in actual fact it was the wood that was guiding his hands.
"So" said Footsore "what you are saying is ..."
...the wood was actually guiding the carver's hands and - in effect - forming itself!"
"Correct!" said Tam. "The wood was forming itself!"
Footsore was nearly speechless with amazement.
"Would it surprise you," he said. "If I were to tell you that I am nearly speechless with ..."
"Amazement?" interrupted the foil-clad Tam. "No. It wouldn't. I have never told this tale before and ..."
"...I'll probably never tell it again."
"Damn good thing," said Captain Roger VC & bar. "There are some things that should never be spoken of. The last person that spoke of the Twig of Orgasmo suffered....."
from attention deficit disorder. "
(Hello, Roger (VC & bar) is still on the Very Little Gravitas Indeed :rolleyes: . We however are in the south seas with master Footsore. )
Ahem now where were we. Ah yes ,
"Amazement?" interrupted the foil-clad Tam. "No. It wouldn't. I have never told this tale before and ..."
"...I'll probably never tell it again."
"Damn good thing," said Captain Roger VC & bar. "There are some things that should never be spoken of. The last person that spoke of the Twig of Orgasmo suffered....."
"What's this!?!" cried Footsore. "A naval person just materialised right next to me on this pile of rank-smelling seaweed!"
"Yerss," said Roger (VC and Bar). "I was going to mention the smell. I'm relieved to discover that it's this pile of seaweed."
"That's all very well and good," said Footsore. "But where did you come from? And what was that strange rending, tearing, ripping noise that we heard just as you arrived?
"Well," said Roger (VC and .....
...Bar). That was the fabric of the universe ripping again. It seems to happen every time I....
break wind"
"Ah ha" thought everyone that had anything to do with this tale. "That certainly explains a lot."
"Are you saying" inquired Footsore "that the very fundament of this, admitedly, rather silly tale comes out of your asre?"
"Well actually" said Roger ".......
... I wouldn't claim to be the only initiator of action. I can say no more, my lips are sealed!"
Footsore was, quite naturally, disappointed.
"Well," said Footsore. "I'm disappointed. However, I'm still all agog to hear why Tom's name is so Haile Significant to me."
Tam had been waiting patiently, leaning on the Twig of Orgasmo. Upon hearing Footsore's mention of his twin, he became animated.
"I'm animated!" he said. "And ...
...so is the Twig of Orgasmo." Even as he spoke, the selfsame twig began to take on a life of its own, first vibrating with a gentle hum, then thumping on the deck, leaping from Tam's hands and walloping Footsore around the ears.
"Goodness me.", said Mother Farquahar, who until now had kept a low profile. "I haven't seen that happen since....
"The timber and working with wood" show held in Sydney in 2004 when a certain rapscallion stole two very valuable hand made(actually zed made) muffins. I wonder if you'll escape the curse or suffer the same fate as Darren the hairy (from the little village beside the Silent Sea) did on that occasion.
Sally looked puzzled. Refraining from mentioning her puzzlement to the class, she gently placed a marker in the page and closed the book.
"Well children," she said. "This is a most interesting development. The narrative has been interrupted by a diversionary sub-plot, relating to this unfortunate Truelove person with the sore feet and the disastrous taste in young ladies. And then the main characters from the narrative have themselves intruded into the diversionary sub-plot! What are we to make of this, I wonder?"
Daphne leapt to her feet, brandishing her hockey stick.
"If any of the boys feel like making pseudo-political speeches," she warned. "I am ready. So are the rest of the team. Aren't we girls?"
Tarquin remained seated. His fingers twitched but he did not grasp his lapels. He looked as if he wanted to say something but he took a long look at Daphne's hockey stick and restrained himself.
Bartholemew, on the other hand, after a long and lustful leer at Daphne in her navy blue gym slip, hurled himself to the floor at her feet.
"Bite me!" he cried. "Thrash me, Daphne, with your hockey stick and trample me with your cleated hockey boots, I implore you!"
Susan was not amused. She saw no reason not to mention this fact.
"I am not amused!" she said. "Bartholemew! Go and stand outside the principal's office and when he asks you why you are there, tell him that you have transgressed against my rules! What are you waiting for? Go!"
Daphne was a bit put out.
She said: "I'm....
...a bit put out!" Sally snarled at her, but she was not to be put off so easily.
"I was hoping to hear the end of this interesting sub plot. In particular the incident involving Darren the Hairy and the predicament involving the Christmas Tree."
Sally roared at her "Get out and join Bartholomew!"
So, picking up her hockey stick, Daphne went to do as she'd been told.
Meanwhile...
back on The Very Little Gravitas Indeed, Roger broke wind.
Actually he didn't just break wind, he let go the almightiest rip-snorter of a fart
that'd ever been heard in Christendom.
The VLGI shivered from stem to stern, her bowsprit dipped and her fore ta'gallant wilted. It was that bad.
It was so bad that instead of opening up a mere rip, as was usual, he opened up a full blown tear!
The crew were flung hither and yon as the VLGI was rocked and rolled by the elemental forces of the universe.
Eventully she could stand the strain no longer and with a pitiful cry of "What'd he say?" from Groans was sucked into the vortex!
All was black.