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Tales From Beyond The Enchanted Prong Hills

The Battle Of The Fluffy Clouds

Mike

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High in the Enchanted Prong Hills, just above the squirrel line, dwelt an inordinately talented toad tosser called Rostrum. He took great delight in attending all the fêtes and fayres of the various kingdoms that occupied the valleys around his mountain log cabin Toss House. There he would enjoy entertaining the people with his own inimitable act which involved, well, tossing toads.
Rostrum had a problem.
Nobody liked him very much. His act stank, his toads were crap and his breeches were a mildly displeasing shade of green. The reason didn't really matter; people basically just weren't interested in someone whose only talent was tossing toads. But this did not deter him. He would continue to perform his bizarre act for public enjoyment despite the fact that the public was getting mightily pissed off with him.
"Why don't you try something more exciting like sword swallowing or fire breathing or bare back puma riding?" his friend Neville the newt balancer once advised him.
"I'll show 'em," Rostrum had responded, "Just you wait. I'll show 'em there's more to toad tossing than, well, tossing toads. I'll get some better toads! I'll paint them pink! I'll stick little silver stars on their bottoms! I'll . . . I'll . . . "
But it was no good. He could not think of a practical way of livening up his act and so he ate a packet of milk chocolate Hob Nobs and felt much better.

One day, in the village of Ig, the parishioners were holding their annual Spleens Day festival which commemorated the day when the cloud fluffers of the neighbouring village of Frippit one night sneaked into Ig and coated the parson's horse in fig syrup. In retalliation for this heinous prank the parishioners of Ig stormed Frippit, captured the cloud fluffers, ripped their spleens out and hung them out to dry on the Ig village square sundial. Due to the loss of their cloud fluffers, Frippit has had to make do with drab, boring, unfluffy clouds ever since.
It was natural that Rostrum should participate in this festival undertaking his usual rôle of village toad tosser. For this event he had indeed selected some particularly nice toads, painted them pink and, yes, stuck little silver stars on their bottoms. When he arrived at the village square he was dismayed to see a large notice had been displayed prominently next to the great statue of King Wogan The Biro.
The notice read:

NO TOAD TOSSING
By Order Of The Ig Parish Council.

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The Battle Of The Fluffy Clouds
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