Christmas Tidings
It has been several months since Fluffy the Crab escaped from the clutches of her employer, the wicked Nola the Rhinoceros, by means of Nola’s kindly brother’s balloon, flying to the Metmow, a haven of peace and security. In that time, Fluffy has attended three Metmow picnics and four Christmas parties, and is set to have a delightful time at the New Year’s Ball, held at the glittering ballroom of the Hotel N.
Nola’s rage, however, has merely simmered, and she has ordered her new henchman, Herman the Octopus, to take whatever steps are needed to seal Fluffy’s doom. The aubergine-colored Herman, the size of a small giant squid, has, from Nola’s New York penthouse, been looking on the Metmow with a cold and calculating eye, carefully assessing the innocent, and, indeed, practically helpless creatures within, whom he believes suspect nothing.
Fluffy knows too well of the fury of Nola, though, and she has engaged the small, furry principals at BSB Architects to design the Crab Safe, a concrete silo, buried deep within the earth, where she can hide from Nola’s revenge. And Nola’s brother and Metmow resident, the Rainocious Rhinoceros, has vowed to protect Fluffy from all harm.
Such is the exposition which brings us to the current day. The Crab Safe has been complete for months, as has the gravity drop elevator which will take Fluffy a kilometer underground, to the Safe’s four-foot-thick blast door. Fluffy has been enjoying herself at Christmas festivities, at the headquarters of the Total Turtle Tea Trolley.
The Tea Turtles have been enjoying Fluffy’s company no end, as she has many stories of New York City which are nonetheless suitable for Metmow ears. Her exploits at the Metropolitan Museum of Art, scuttling beneath the ticket booths, with their suggested donations of half one’s net worth, to see a lifetime’s worth of Caravaggios and mummies, enthrall the Turtles. In particular, they are fascinated by her description of the Temple of Dandruff, made from thousands of Assyrian flasks containing an ancient recipe for Head and Shoulders. And, in turn, they have tea and treats for their invertebrate guest.
Today, the Chief Tea Turtle is wearing a peaked Santa’s cap with its associated white pompon, and a green corduroy dust ruffle with tiny red suspenders. The Under Tea Turtles are wearing green Phrygian caps suitable for revolutionary elves, and red crocheted dust ruffles with white figures of snowmen worked into the pattern. The main treat is a bûche de Noël, a chocolate tree branch worked in layered rolled up sponge cake alternating with ganache, covered with dark chocolate icing, meringue mushrooms, and broken-off branches made from more of the coated, cleverly disguised sponge cake, There are dishes of mint Oreo crumble ice cream enriched with powdered candy canes. And, for a savory, there are popovers stuffed with magical Chinese pork bun filling. The tea for today is Peet’s Holiday Blend, and, in addition, there are glasses of stout eggnog — not the kind that comes in the carton, but the homemade kind which is light and fluffy, with whipped cream and egg white and a hint of virgin bourbon.
At this moment, though, Herman is sitting at his long, mahogany desk, made from timbers poached from the endangered forests of Madagascar in the dead of night, receiving reports from his fleet of menacing black crows. Flying too high to be spotted by the Metmow’s winged turtles, they are on the lookout for Fluffy’s greenish shell. Luckily, the crows are unable to pick Fluffy out from the snowdrifts in which she is currently playing, and have been reporting back to Herman on the tracks of certain voles and snow hares, whom, from their great height, they have mistaken for lobsters. Fluffy does not know of the dangers in the sky above her. Perhaps she will learn soon enough.
April 23rd, 2011 at 5:43 pm
Dearest Spinner and Spinner-Enabler of Tales (I mean both of you),
I had a delightful time reading the belated but always welcome Christmas installment from the Metmow. I did, it must be said, laugh out loud–in the manner of one whose fancy has been tickled, several times.
Pray continue your reports. They are a source of comfort in difficult times.
Yours fondly and faithfully,
Clarkie