Grimbeau

Tuned in, turned off, turned on, turned up, turned puce…

Mother Goose, Aladdin, and Buttons

glaring at me like thunder.

`Prey, what ails thou Panto-types?` I seasonalled.

`A flagrant breach of protocol, that’s what!’ said Goose, irate, pacing.

`Cinders is a tard! Whittington’s a dachshund! The ugly sisters are ants! Need I continue?` Buttons stormed with absurd pomp.

‘My lamp is empty.` Aladdin wailed.

`I do not see what it has to do with me.` I said with modesty and aplomb.

`Just typical,’ Goose tutted, `will no one take responsibility ?`

…

Luck to get out of their alive,

I tell you,  slipped out

when the Bovril lady came,

via the sink, town drain,

and Alaskan tundra to here.

Thumbnail One:

 `The Twiglet and Cheeseball.`