Alan stretched out on the comfy sofa, cooking apron over his grease-covered red jumper, with a bowl of freshly cooked fish and chips in one hand. His face was smeared with lipstick and tomato ketchup. Right beside him was Tin Tin, hungover from the night before during a protest rally about saving the nation’s sheep from causing colon cancer by getting mashed up into red meat.
For a moment, an eerie silence filled the air. Then Alan broke it. He did! He really did! He burped as loud and long as Adam Sandler’s character did in Eight Crazy Nights, clicked his tongue three times, then lay back as if he were a fish flopping to its death after a whole hour spent gasping for breath on dry land.
“So, you’ve brought me fish and chips,” yawned Tin Tin, rubbing her bloodshot, beautifully glass eyes out of tiredness.
“The cornerstone of any nutritious breakfast. I’d say white meat is better than red meat any day - if you ask the people at the RSPCA.”
“Who?” hiccuped Alan.
“The animal rights foundation rudely mentioned by Dougal when he taught Dylan how to play the bagpipes?”
“Of course, but he was only protesting because Florence and the others wanted one of his hairs removed to fix the bagpipes that Dylan broke…or were they making a new one? I can’t remember.”
“Things have gotten worse than that, I’m afraid,” munched Alan, tucking into his fish,
“Sapphire and Steel showed us the horror of animal rights before. This red creature composed of triangles menaced this young couple with images of sheep being slaughtered for meat, and then their baby transformed into an emotionally stunted man with flat feet.”
Tin Tin was so disgusted. She wretched forward over the side of the sofa and upchucked so hard Grandma had to come and clean up the mess. She tutted and said,
“Naughty girl,” before puckering away to see to other matters her grandsons were into.
Tin Tin looked dirtier than ever, her mouth covered with green stomach goop with yellow and white and red bits decorating it as if it were the icing of a cake made of rubbish. The front of her green jumper was also decorated lovingly with vomit drips. Alan knew just how to react to that.
“Oh, gross!” he mocked, and then gave a sly smile.
“And yet, that’s what I like about my girl.”
And with that, he fed Tin Tin a piece of his battered fish, as if she were his baby.
“Mmmm-mmmmm,” went Tin Tin, trying to stifle a giggle as she swallowed, but she ended up choking and Alan had to thump her on the back, and….
PTCHOOMP! The fish Alan fed Tin Tin flew through the air and landed straight on Kyrano’s head. He screamed and ran into the kitchen, cowering on the floor in just his underwear and shivering as if he had encountered the ghost of someone who had been killed by his half brother…
Well, best not mention his name in case Kyrano has another brain attack.
Tin Tin, now blue in the face and gasping for air, grasped hold of Alan, whimpering as if she was a long lost puppy with silky long hair. It might even have been an Afghan.
“Save me, Prince Eric…” she wheezed, not wanting to bare another thought of fish and chips.
“As you say so, Ariel,” Alan heroically boasted, and he ran into the kitchen to throw the fish and chips away.
As he did, he caught a glimpse of Kyrano shivering on the floor, his pupils tiny with shock.
“Hey, Kyrano, are you okay?” he asked, concerned for his house man.
But as he whispered towards him, Kyrano could only say this:
“D…D…don’t come near me. Fish have come to attack Tracy Island.”
And we all know he was just playing stupid, don’t we?
Or…er…don’t you know this at all?
“Oh Alan, you’re so minty!”
“And I love you too, my brown haired Ariel.”
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