Chapter 6: The Croco-diamond Behaves Badly

After finishing breakfast that morning, the giant man suggested that all go out to the barn to get the cringle crisps ready to be loaded into the ton-o-tap. The kangawrong, who, oddly, had been reading the news, raised the paper in front of its face so it couldn’t be seen.

“But…but, no…that’s quite impossible,” said the croco-diamond. “Because…I can’t…because…I’ve just had my nails done.” He nervously clicked his nails and then looked away as if staring innocently into space. “Nails done,” the croco-diamond said under his breath, with conviction.

“You could wear your gloves.” The giant man was surprised at the croco-diamond’s response. Usually the croco-diamond wanted nothing more than to be around cringle crisps.

“No, uh, no I’m afraid that won’t work because…the gloves, yes the gloves…they’ve gone…missing.” And the croco-diamond walked over to his hammock and dramatically gestured toward the area where the gloves were normally stored.

And the giant man saw that they were missing. Then, returning to the kitchen, he noticed now that other things were missing. Such as his new bandana, a pair of his shoes, a pot of cactar jam, the kitchen towel, and a spatula.

“The clouds are stealing other things now?” The giant man muttered to himself. “What would a cloud possibly want with a spatula?”

Then he noticed that while he had been looking around his kitchen the kangawrong and croco-diamond had gone missing too.

“I hope the clouds haven’t gotten you two!” He called out. But there was no response.

#

An hour later the ton-o-tap driver was leaving the giant man’s farm when he saw a curious sight. It appeared to be…a walking bandana? With very large shoes that didn’t fit?? On crutches??? And the, well, he guessed it was the head though it was covered up with the bandana, seemed to be wearing…

…a fedora????

As he slowed to get a better look, the walking bandana flagged him down with a crutch. The driver stopped and opened the door to the ton-o-tap.

Just then a…sticky kitchen towel??? Wielding a giant spatula??? in its gloved hands commanded “Unlock the ton-o-tap! Or I shall spat you with my spatula!”

Speechless, and certainly confused, the driver walked to the back of the ton-o-tap. The kitchen towel waved the spatula threateningly behind him, or perhaps it was adjusting itself. The bandana clomped behind, tripping over its shoes and making a quiet HoP HoP boing noise as it walked.

The driver unlocked the ton-o-tap and in a sudden move the kitchen towel threw itself over the driver’s head. Due to the stickiness of the towel the driver could not get it unstuck from his head. Though, it did smell pleasantly of cactar jam, which the driver often put on his morning toast.

A ruckus seemed to be going on inside the truck. He could hear frantic munching and chaotic crunching.

It sounded like crunch munch crack! crash!

munch crunch crunch.

smash crack! Bang!

munch scrunch crunch! crack!

munch!

Flop! Pop! Bang! Clop!

The driver, frightened, yelled out “Help me! Help me! I’ve been attacked by a towel and now I’m all sticky!”

The giant man arrived quickly on hearing the driver’s cries. He was surprised to find his missing shoes and spatula on the ground behind the ton-o-tap.

And puzzled to find the driver with the missing kitchen towel on his head.

And curious as to why the tip of his bandana was hanging out of the back of the ton-o-tap.

And intrigued to know what, exactly, was going on in there.

Gently swinging open the doors, he discovered…

What he had been worried to discover.

The croco-diamond was laying on baskets in a cringle crisp coma. His eyes were half shut, his mouth full of uneaten crisps, and his entire body was covered in crumbs.

The fur of the kangawrong had dusty purple patches from the crushed cringle crisps, and it had nervously hopped with its extraordinarily large feet all over the back of the ton-o-tap, crushing baskets and crisps until all that now remained were teeny tiny little pieces.

The giant man knew he should say something.

So he said the first thing that came to mind.

“Oh dear.”

Bentley is having a special visitor tomorrow

A few weeks ago a colleague of mine was getting promoted and her kids came to the office for the ceremony. She brought them to my cube to show them the pictures I have of Bentley. Her 7 year old son, G, was obsessed with Bentley. He asked me a million questions and almost made his mom late to her promotion ceremony.

And as soon as the ceremony was over he came right back to my cube to talk to me more about tigers (his mom later commented to me that he didn't even stop to get a cupcake or cookie before heading to my cube, which is apparently unusual for him). I also showed him pictures of great whites and the great white tracker app I have on my phone. I asked him if he liked sharks and he said "Yes, I like tiger sharks." Haha!

Finally his mom was like "dude, we have to go home" and I pulled out some photos I had printed of Bentley and told G "I want you to have my tiger. I'll pay for his food but he's your tiger. And you have to share with your sisters." (He has a 13 year old sister with pink highlights like me and a 2 month old sister who's probably not going to care about Bentley for a while, but I didn't want any of the kids to feel slighted).

The next morning my colleague said "G remembered everything you told him about tigers and I ordered him some books on tigers. He's so excited!"

Anyway, on monday my colleague said G wanted to go to the sanctuary this weekend to see Bentley. I arranged the visit and the sanctuary is going to do a bunch of cool stuff for the kids and give them a special tour. My colleague promised to take a bunch of pictures of Bentley for me (between the road to the sanctuary, which is a dirt road the last 4 miles, being flooded for most of the spring / summer and impassible, and then my broken foot, and traveling, and trying to arrange a time with the sanctuary to visit, it's been hard to pin down a weekend to go see him).

I'm going next saturday to see Bentley and talk to the sanctuary owners about my charitable giving plans and Bentley's trust fund. And, ummmmm, I told the sanctuary owners the next time they have 2 baby tigers up for adoption I would adopt them. You can't have three tigers unless you have two. And you can't have two tigers unless you have one.

Then I talked to the owner about toys for Bentley and his brother. I'm going to buy them each an indestructo ball because that's a tiger's favorite toy ever. And then she told me to also buy some expensive perfume because apparently tigers LOVE expensive perfume more than the scent enrichment shit you can buy for the balls.

She said "Honey, tigers have the most expensive taste of any exotic animal. They will not play with cheap toys."

I love that about my tiger.

I am so excited to go into the office on Monday and hear G's reaction to the sanctuary. I know he and his sister A are going to love it!

Chapter 5: The Giant Man Makes an Announcement Which Displeases the Croco-diamond

With the three working together the production of the cringle crisps increased tremendously. All were very happy to work and all enjoyed the evenings when they ate dinner together. The croco-diamond would often tell stories of his jewels, the kangawrong would show a new hopping step it just invented, and the giant man would lecture on cultivation when the other two performers had exhausted their shows.

But strange things still continued to happen. As an example, one morning the croco-diamond woke up to find someOne or someThing had devised a jewel cleaner from a discarded toothbrush of the giant man. The bristles had been cut perfectly to get into the crevices between the jewels and the handle was just such a length as to make sure not a single spot on the croco-diamond’s sparkling spine was missed.

Also, the cringle crisps continued to go missing. With the discovery of each empty basket the croco-diamond would stare up at sky.

“They are becoming more devious,” he would say to the giant man. “Today there was not one cloud to be seen. Yet…” He pointed to the five empty baskets of cringle crisps. “It’s quite easy for them to be sneaky because it’s so hard to catch a cloud.”

While those were the normal strange things, one more thing was observed by the giant man. Though the kangawrong was given plates and plates of cringle crisps, it still seemed a bit underweight. And though the croco-diamond worked almost every day in the field, he was, and this is not said unkindly, getting a bit fat.

Mostly, though, the giant man was not consumed with strange things. Instead, he thought of his new plan which, when the time was right, on the evening of a day that had been particularly productive regarding the making of cringle crisps, he revealed to the kangawrong and the croco-diamond.

“I have some very exciting news!” he said as all relaxed in the courtyard.

The croco-diamond stirred in his hammock and the kangawrong stopped polishing the croco-diamond’s nails. They looked at the giant man expectantly.

“Tomorrow you shall sit for a portrait,” said the giant man to the croco-diamond, who murmured “ooh, marvelous” and happily began to floss his teeth. “We are finally getting boxes for the cringle crisps! Due to the increase in cringle crisp production thanks to your help, and the kangawrong’s help, it’s now cost effective to have packaging.”

“Splendid! Splendid!” said the croco-diamond. Finished flossing, he stretched himself out in the hammock to see how flat he could make his belly. “Success is about marketing. With pictures of me. And perhaps now my name should be used in association with the cringle crisps. Croco-diamond crisps.”

“And then a ton-o-tap will come tomorrow to the farm.”

“A ton-o-tap? Whatever for?”

“You see all these cringle crisps?” The giant man pointed to the baskets in the courtyard, there must have been at least 40, and then the baskets in the barn, which must have been hundreds. The croco-diamonds mouth began to water and he thought cringly yummy crunchy!

“They will be taken by a ton-o-tap to a distributor.”

At this news the kangawrong stopped squishing buggallies and did a celebratory hop hop where its feet slapped mid-air, making a clap.

The croco-diamond, however, frowned.

“And sold in stores!” The giant man was so happy he threw his hands in the air, hitting his umbrell-ears and causing them to go askew.

“But, what do you mean you will take all my, ahem I meant, our cringle crisps to…stores?”

“Well, stores. Like the stores you used to shop in. Fancy stores. With…with comestibles.”

“But, but stores are expensive.” The croco-diamond raised himself up in the hammock. “Do you propose to take cringle crisps away from the common people who can’t afford to shop in stores?”

The croco-diamond’s brain kept chanting keepy cringle crispies!

“I do not think we should give our supply of cringle crisps, the dietary staple of the common people, to stores.”

“But I - I thought you would be happy. Your - your picture next to other fine comestibles…” The giant man was puzzled, and the croco-diamond’s reaction to his wonderful announcement made him sad.

As for the croco-diamond, he was confused. He wanted his picture on cringle crisp boxes next to all the other fine comestibles, such as Pear-a-mon Raincoat Cookies, New Heritage Nut Sticks, and Creamy Candy Moos. But he also heard a voice inside his head chanting keepy cringle crispies! Keepy cringle crispies!

“I just wonder are we being too hasty. Really, is it necessary to give away all the cringle crisps? Should we not save some for the common people? The people at the market? Whose entire life, perhaps, will be upended and, most probably, destroyed without an affordable cringle crisp?”

The giant man suddenly felt unsure of his plan. “Well, we can make more for the market. And I can’t cancel the ton-o-tap for tomorrow. It’s already paid for. We can make more...”

The croco-diamond did not seem to be listening to the giant man at all. Instead he picked up his jewel cleaner and began to polish his spine for the next day’s portrait. Though he didn’t seem to be paying attention to the polishing. And was repeating something under his breath that sounded, to the giant man, like keepy cringle crispies! Keepy cringle crispies!

Unsure what to do about the croco-diamond’s mood, the giant man asked the kangawrong to help him move the baskets in the courtyard to the barn. He locked the barn door, something rarely, to be honest never, done, just in case there were clouds nearby, waiting to steal the cringle crisps after all had gone to sleep.

#

But not all slept. That night, in his hammock, the croco-diamond muttered many things which made no sense to the kangawrong, who curled uneasily under the frequently shifting hammock. It did hear something like “plan, a plan, must make plan to keepy cringle crispies” and, a bit later, “perhaps, perhaps with crutches, oh, but where will I ever find crutches???” before it fell asleep.

#

The next morning, on waking, the croco-diamond was surprised to find, next to his hammock, a pair of crutches fashioned out of oakal boughs cut the year before by the giant man. They were carefully wrapped with twine and by all appearances looked like official crutches.

The croco-diamond quietly hid them in the bramble shrubs at the edge of the courtyard, careful not to wake the kangawrong. Then he looked up at the sky.

“Clouds?”

The clouds, if they were listening, didn’t answer.

“It’s the only possible explanation. Yes. It must be...the clouds.” A solitary tear developed in the croco-diamond’s eye. “I thank you.”

Then he stood at the edge of the courtyard, sketching something in the dirt that, to a keen observer, appeared to be a plan.

Chapter 4: In Two Strange Events Things Appear and Things Disappear

Soon they arrived home and the kangawrong stepped out of the ticky-tap-tap with a PLOINK and a BOINK. The croco-diamond decided it needed a bath immediately so as to make the kangawrong look very nice since the croco-diamond liked all things to look nice.

And, more importantly, so it would not touch with dirty hands the future cringle crisps that would be made the next day, which would be twice as many as had ever been made. The croco-diamond could eat a lot of cringle crisps if they were made by hands that were clean.

The giant man lifted the kangawrong into the kitchen sink and the croco-diamond gave it a thorough scrub. Its soft brown fur lost tangles and mats as the croco-diamond gently washed it.

With a pile of soap bubbles on its head between its drooping wet ears it looked especially cute so the croco-diamond was moved to sing the kangawrong a song:

Oh cringle crisp, oh cringle crisp

You are so very munchy!

Oh cringle crisp, oh cringle crisp

For dinner and for lunchy!

I could eat a bunchy!

Because they are so crunchy!

#

At bedtime the croco-diamond climbed into the hammock with Animale Disparatus: A Field Guide to the Marsupal Oops, which he had found in the giant man’s library. The kangawrong curled up underneath the hammock, its head resting on its enormous tail.

It didn’t stir the whole night though the croco-diamond snored –

BZZZ ZZZZ HUCH ZZZZ

#

The next morning all awoke to find something strange had happened.

First, the old apron of the giant man (which was replaced recently with a new apron) had been made into gloves. The gloves, all agreed, fit the croco-diamond perfectly. He was immensely pleased and ticked his nails in a clicky clap of happiness.

Second, a discarded sun shade stored in the giant man’s closet for years had been transformed into a pair of umbrell-ears. The umbrell-ears fitted on the giant man’s head and would protect him from exposure to the sun.

Lastly, a felt table cloth that had dust on its unopened packaging had been fashioned into a fedora that could be worn by the kangawrong. It had been designed for its oversized ears. The fedora looked quite jaunty and stylish even the croco-diamond admired the kangawrong’s appearance.

But, none knew from where the gifts had come. It was, as said before, very strange.

Donning their new items, they set out to the field after a breakfast of bakey cakeys. The croco-diamond began to fill a basket with cringle roots and to instruct the kangawrong on the fine art of picking.

However, there was a problem.

The kangawrong’s arms were too short. It couldn’t bend down past its little belly to reach the earth. Its fingers went wriggle wriggle but it couldn’t grab a cringle root.

“This - this is a cringle catastrophe!” cried the croco-diamond. And in an aside to the giant man: “If it can’t do work - perhaps - we have to - eat it.”

At this the kangawrong’s overly large ears pricked up with a toink and a boink. The croco-diamond possibly did not know that kangawrongs have a highly developed sense of hearing.

“We are NOT going to eat the kangawrong,” the giant man said. “I think instead it will be perfect at peeling the cringle roots. And I will do the baking.”

At this, quietly inside his head, the croco-diamond now thought crunchy cringle crummies. Cringly crispy yummy. His mouth watered and his teeth felt happier than they had ever been.

So the day went on, the croco-diamond feverishly picking and the giant man cooking with assistance from the kangawrong. The smell of freshly made cringle crisps drying in the sun carried out to the field on a mild wind and made the croco-diamond delirious with joy and anticipation for the end of his work when he could have a snack.

That makes what happened next another strange thing.

When the croco-diamond returned from the field, delicately removing his gloves and placing them neatly next to his hammock, and polishing quickly his jeweled spine before entering the house for dinner, he found…

Mostly empty cringle crisp baskets.

And a very puzzled giant man.

And a very protective kangawrong.

It hopped in place near the remaining full baskets, fists cocked as if to punch something. Occasionally it would stop hopping to stretch out one enormous foot and squish a curious buggally coming too close to the baskets.

“I don’t know what happened,” said the giant man. “I came out to get the baskets and more than half were empty. They were stolen. I put the kangawrong on guard to protect what’s left.”

That made the kangawrong do a few extra high hop hops. It was very proud to be a guard. The empty baskets still lay overturned near the full ones. They had been emptied even of crumbs.

“It is quite odd. Maybe the oddest thing in all of the worlds. Who would steal the cringle crisps?”

The giant man looked at the croco-diamond. “Honestly, I can’t imagine who.”

The croco-diamond lowered his snout towards the earth, deep in thought.

“Then the question should perhaps be what. What could steal the cringle crisps?” The croco-diamond pondered for a moment. “A bird-o-walrus? Swarming beezles?”

The giant man shook his head.

“A - a teradactalsaurus?”

“I believe those have been extinct. For quite a long time.”

The croco-diamond looked up at the sky, searching intently for the culprit.

“There is only one answer then. Yes, the only answer possible.”

The croco-diamond gathered himself up on his hind legs, clasped his hands in front of his belly, and looked at the giant man with such conviction as can only come from knowing an answer is the truth.

“It must have been… the clouds.”

“Clouds.”

“Yes. I believe so.” The croco-diamond began to pace back and forth, a look of serious concern on his face. “We need to prepare. There will surely be some odd precipitation later in the evening. When, ahem, the crisps have been - digested.”

And the croco-diamond did prepare, and prepared the kangawrong, by insisting they eat their before bedtime snack of cringle crisps under the hammock, protected from odd precipitation. And where the giant man could not see what they were doing.

“My dear, dear creature,” said the croco-diamond, patting the kangawrong’s head and then smoothing down its recently cleaned and shiny ears so that they turned inside out and flopped down, “I would hate for anything to happen to you. You are the most beloved thing to me in all of the worlds.”

The kangawrong’s eyes went wink wink and its little muzzle twitched. It looked adoringly at the croco-diamond.

“Which is why I must tell you something Very important.”

At this the kangawrong’s ears shot up with a poink and the plate of cringle crisps clutched in its too short arms rattled against its chest.

“You are aware, of course, about the matter regarding your stomach?”

The kangawrong, now a bit frightened, shook its head. Its ears went flap flap.

“I have studied, as you may be aware, the stomachs of many species, as I find them interesting.” He tapped the field guide he had been reading, Animale Disparatus: A Field Guide to the Marsupal Oops.

“You are from the family Marsup Awry, genus Marsupal Oops, also, in other regions, called a jack-a-miss and boom-a-whups, first believed to have come into existence as the Phalangeri Doh!, from which you evolved, during the mid-MioceNeu period. Other members of your family include the Eastern Goof, the Askew-lopine, the Red Unright…”

The droning voice of the croco-diamond made the kangawrong very sleepy. Its eyelids went plonk plonk and its little muzzle drooped downward. The croco-diamond whispered “I’ll just help you with these” and took the plate of cringle crisps from the kangawrong.

“You see, your species has chambers, chambers in the stomach, which means big stomach aches if you eat something that disagrees with you,” continued the croco-diamond in an even more quiet, more boring tone.

The kangawrong slumped into a curl next to him so the croco-diamond could more easily scratch its back. With his back foot the croco-diamond carefully pulled the plate of cringle crisps away from the about-to-be-asleep kangawrong.

“And so you see, though you have wide molars, quite nice molars, that can chop and grind, chop, grind…”

Suh. Shuh. The kangawrong was almost asleep.

“I’m just not sure, given your origins, genus, family, appearance and existence based on this period of history, the chambers, the chambers of your stomach, I just can’t be sure…”

Tock. The kangawrong’s eyes fell shut.

“…that cringle crisps are right for you.”

And though some may have thought it awful and selfish and greedy, the croco-diamond had to eat the kangawrong’s cringle crisps just to make sure it didn’t get a multi-chambered stomach ache which is even worse than a normal stomach ache, due to there being more stomachs.

So he ate them. Very quietly.

I'll see you tomorrow

Everyone at work has been really nice about my eye issues. A kid who works in the front of my section (doing stuff unrelated to my work) has been typing stuff I dictate to him so I can rest my eyes.

The challenge has been driving to and from work. Driving to work is hard because the sun is coming up right in front of me. Driving home is challenging because my eyes are a little blurry after staring at a computer screen all day.

To make matters more interesting, Colorado has some of the worst drivers on the planet. Every day I find myself thinking "what part of I'm already in this lane so you can't merge over do you not understand?" Annoying.

When I leave in the evenings everyone says "I'll see you tomorrow, but you might not see me." Ha.

And today I noticed an empty cookie packet in the drawer where I keep all the snacks that my colleagues eat when they're feeling healthy. I was like "what the fuck is this?" And my crazy colleague who hates PINSMs said "It's my new version of a PINSM."

Sigh.

creative or annoying? I haven't decided yet

Chapter 3: They Rescue a Kangawrong at the Market

Though he pretended to be sleeping the croco-diamond was quite excited about going to a market. He had never been. There was, of course, the issue with people, in a mob, and him with so many jewels.

But the real reason he had never been to market is that croco-diamonds are a bit snooty. They only shop in places like V’Ates on Weremonshire and Hemington’s Definitive Doodads and Edith’s Terribly Refined Comestibles, which are sold in intricately designed little china pots that people save to reuse. Though, they are entirely impractical for any use except for terribly refined comestibles, which come in their own china pot.

The giant man pulled up into a dusty lot next to all the other ticky-tap-taps which were painted Japana-green, Orange-glo, Spangled Yellow, Purple Fright, and other colors. The croco-diamond was a bit miffed that his ticky-tap-tap was sadly, and in not just his opinion, a bland blue.

Soon he turned to other matters of importance, such as the cringle crisp business. The giant man was pulling the four cringle crisp baskets (one had, by the witness account, blown away, and had not been eaten by the croco-diamond as some might suspect) to the edge of the ticky-tap-tap.

From his hammock the croco-diamond cried, “Is this your plan? To just place the cringle crisps nakedly in their baskets? No, no, this is all wrong!” With a flump (his feet) and a palump (his tail) the croco-diamond was out of the hammock and standing in the bed of the ticky-tap-tap.

The noise attracted the attention of the market goers, who started to gather in a group around the giant man. They were awestruck by croco-diamond, regally standing on his hind feet with his tail casually but strategically draped over the side of the ticky-tap-tap. The red streamers fluttered in the gentle breeze.

Close by the sound of an Italianis’ voice could be heard to cry “Termaters! Getta your fresh-ah TER-maters!” The scene was very pleasing to the croco-diamond.

“What we need are boxes. Boxes fit for cringle crisps, an unparalleled snack in all of the worlds.” The croco-diamond paused as if waiting for the crowd to produce boxes.

When that didn’t happen the croco-diamond, remembering his chipped nails, placed his front webbed feet behind his back, as if he was a general surveying his kingdom. But really, he didn’t want the crowd to see his nails.

“Good people! Good people of the market! As you see, before me are four baskets. Baskets which contain…”

But the market goers were already lining up with their brown paper bags. The giant man filled the bags with cringle crisps and collected coins.

The croco-diamond barked out a wuf in a way that he hoped would seem accidental. The market goers in line stopped clamoring forward and took a step back from the ticky-tap-tap, wavering between cringle crisps and the foreboding animal before them that had just barked. Loudly.

Having regained the crowd’s attention the croco-diamond continued.

“A new day is dawning, a new day for the cringle crisp. As you see today, we have a simple, yet elegantly executed operation. But in keeping with the times, new trends, regulations, analysis, and fashion, in the future we will be revolutionizing distribution… boxes, we will have boxes of cringle crisps, my picture of course, on the boxes, perhaps even a name change to croco-diamond crisp… a new day for cringle crisps! I personally will sign every box, with this, my own hand.”

Suddenly, there was a tremendous clatter of boxes somewhere to the left of the ticky-tap-tap, a yelp from the Italianis, and then…

An ominous noise.

Hip squish squish.

The crowd turned to the noise. Which was not coming from the croco-diamond.

To regain the crowd’s attention he waved his large (though at this point besides nail-chipped, slightly dirty) front foot towards the crowd. “Yes, you, you the common people, will have a picture to cherish, a picture of a croco-diamond, with my signature…”

The crowd once again looked at the croco-diamond, who clenched his hand into a fist to hide his nails and to project a sense of power.

Hop squish hip. Hip hop squish. Squish. Hip.

“Hey ya! My-ah termarters! Look-ah what-ah ya did ter my termarters!”

The angry Italianis’ voice caused the crowd to turn away again. This time, the croco-diamond looked too. First he saw…

…giant red footprints.

Was it? Not! Blood! Croco-diamonds can not STAND the sight of blood. It makes them faint, then whimper, and then cry.

But blood does not have seeds. These red footprints had seeds.

Squish hop hip squish thump.

Squish.

Hip.

Squeeeee. Eeeeeee.

Noting the direction the crowd was now looking, and the closeness of the noise, the croco-diamond turned to the right side of the ticky-tap-tap.

Sproing!

One large, rather too large in fact, furry brown ear popped up near the fourth basket of cringle crisps.

Sproing!

A second furry brown ear joined the first.

The croco-diamond wondered, was it...

A rabid bearstein? A mad doglin? A wolf-o-snappish?

Was it…

the worst monster in all of the worlds?

The croco-diamond fought to maintain his composure. Croco-diamonds, because of their long and esteemed lineage, do not show fear even when afraid.

“Show yourself creature, or I shall chop you! With my choppers!” The croco-diamond displayed his white gold teeth, which glistened in a menacing fashion, even with a few cringle crisps caught in the crevices because the croco-diamond had forgotten to floss after eating cringle crisps on the ride to the market.

Poing!

A little muzzle shot up, leaning into the bed of the ticky-tap-tap.

Ploink, ploink!

Two soft brown eyes with very, VERY long eyelashes blinked at the croco-diamond. Who stood with an over-extended tummy full of one too many baskets of cringle crisps, unsure what to do. He felt, to be honest, still a little scared.

The giant man made a noise as if clearing his throat. “I believe, I think, what we have here, is, um, I’m quite sure actually, that is to say... That is a kangawrong.”

“And it-ah murshed my-ah termarters!” cried the Italianis from the crowd.

“Oh your termarters! We are quite tired of hearing of your termarters!” said the croco-diamond. He was very glad that the creature was not the worst monster in all of the worlds or a sneaky-thief trying to steal his jewels.

“But-ah! It-ah murshed my-ah termarters! Punish, I say-ah!”

The croco-diamond made himself even taller than he already was by standing on his tail and puffing out his light green belly even more. “There will be no correction of the creature!” He watched as the long lashes of the kangawrong went “wink wink” and the whiskers on its petite muzzle did a left wriggle and a right wriggle.

“We shall free this prisoner! We shall pay for its wrongs! We,” at this the croco-diamond nodded at the giant man, “shall pay this prisoner’s debts of which debts relate to the termaters!”

The crowd clapped and the giant man looked a little worried at how much the payment would be. The Italianis shouted back, “It ain’t-ah a captive. But-ah, it murshed my-ah termarters! Hopped through-ah and didn’t even look-ah!”

The croco-diamond laid a chipped, but still royal, nail on the kangawrong’s forehead, between the two soft brown eyes, and said “I forgive you. By my order and command as a croco-diamond, I forgive you for your crime.”

The kangawrong looked at the croco-diamond and tilted its head to the side. It raised one of its abnormally small arms and waved at the croco-diamond with its furry paw. Its huge tail went wag wag.

“I think it likes me,” the croco-diamond stage whispered to the giant man. “Let’s take it home.”

He was already imagining how the kangawrong could wait on him, bringing him baskets of cringle crisps while he lazed in the hammock. Even with its stunted arms, surely it could pick cringle roots. Baskets and baskets of cringle roots. One basket of cringle roots equals one basket of cringle crisps and they, the two of them, could pick baskets and baskets and baskets.

The front of the croco-diamond’s snout became moist and his nostrils expanded, breathing in the heady scent of cringle crisp crumbs, all that was left from the day’s market trip.

“Ummmmm… okay,” said the giant man, stacking the empty baskets.

“It will of course have to sit in the front seat with you. There’s no room back here.” The croco-diamond slumped to his belly, pushing cringle crisp crumbs that had fallen to the bed of the ticky-tap-tap into a pile. He then turned to the kangawrong.

“Onward little one! To the front seat of the ticky-tap-tap! Forthwith! Post haste!”

Ploink ploink went the kangawrong’s eyelashes. It didn’t move.

“I believe it’s a bit daft,” the croco-diamond said to the giant man. “Help the dear thing to its seat!”

So the giant man opened the passenger door of the ticky-tap-tap and helped the kangawrong inside. Its tail made a sproing brrroing proiiing noise as the giant man attempted to arrange it comfortably in the cab.

That covered up the sounds of the croco-diamond eating the crumbs of the cringle crisps. Munch munch crunch. He was being very quiet.

Chapter 2: The Giant Man Makes a Plan of Action Which They Carry Out

The croco-diamond popped the last bit of sami-nana-kin in his mouth.

“Delicious!” he said to the giant man. “Did you grow that on this farm?”

“I grow everything on the farm and then sell it at the market. I like to work outdoors.”

“And you live here alone?” asked the croco-diamond, noticing, now that the sun was fully up, that the giant man’s house, while well made, was, to be honest, a little messy.

“I’ve lived here alone for a long time.”

The croco-diamond said, with pride, “I have never lived alone.” Then, thinking his response may have been a bit impolite, he whispered conspiratorially, “However, I did live in a swamp. It was quite mucky. You can’t even imagine what it did to…my jewels.”

Every croco-diamond has a unique set of jewels, some won from dueling with pirates, others bestowed for valor, a few given as payment for scholarly works, and the rest handed down through the generations. All of the croco-diamond’s star garnets were inherited from his father, who had received them as payment for a series of books he had written about Roebertian engine design. Croco-diamonds can be very mechanically inclined when they aren’t being lazy.

“I wonder if I might have a copy of your father’s book. Let’s go look,” said the giant man.

Located down the hallway from the kitchen was the giant man’s library. It was full of all kinds of books. Cook books, plant books, bird books, farm books, and the entire Poggly Woggly adventure series. But not the croco-diamond’s father’s book.

“Well, it was a limited edition series. Very expensive. One really must have jewels to afford it.”

But the giant man had no jewels. That made the croco-diamond feel bored. He thought about returning to the purple hammock for some sleep. The giant man had other ideas.

“What we are going to do now is go out in the field and pick some more cringle roots. Then we will go into the kitchen and make the cringle crisps. I think we can make at least two baskets before market.”

At first the croco-diamond was not sure at all that he wanted to go into a field to do manual labor. The giant man watched as the croco-diamond lowered his snout and made a “kkkech, bleccch” noise. He wrapped his tail around his body and looked as if he would turn into a giant ball and bounce away.

So the giant man said, “I would like to tell you about the cringle root. The cringle root is a beautiful thing, like your jewels.”

The giant man pulled out the Oxmand Varveris’ Handbook of Corms to show the croco-diamond.

“You plant it in the fall, the seed looks like a flower. You must tend to the root gently through the winter. In the spring tiny green leaves sprout from the dirt. The leaves are shiny, like…”

“Like my emeralds?” the croco-diamond asked, suddenly interested since the subject had changed to him.

“Yes, like your emeralds. Under the leaves a small root grows hidden, a translucent globe at first, darkening to a shade of purple, the purple of royalty. The purple … of Kings.”

“I see,” said the croco-diamond, contemplating the rich purple of the cringle crisps, and how they had shimmered in the basket, tempting him to eat them.

He wondered how croco-diamonds had been unaware for all of the years that cringle crisps existed since they were obviously the food of Kings. So light and airy with an exceptional crunch leaving a nutty earthy taste in the mouth as one savored the broken crisp on the tongue.

A trickle of saliva rolled down the croco-diamond’s lower jaw. He wished for a cringle crisp at that moment and wanted it more than anything in all of the worlds. He thought to ask the giant man if there might be some over looked baskets, perhaps in the house, which, while not a perfectly clean environment, would not preclude the croco-diamond, recently from the swamp, from eating a cringle crisp.

“Say, would there be any more cringle crisps about somewhere? You have piqued my interest. I am very excited to get to know more about them through a thorough study.”

The giant man sadly shook his head no.

At that moment it became clear to the croco-diamond what needed to be done. He raised his snout up.

“To the field!” he commanded, raising a finger on his front foot in the air. “We go! Post haste!”

And so they went into the field. The croco-diamond watched impatiently as the giant man picked a cringle root. He had to bend down from way up high to the dirt where the cringle roots were.

 He would stick his big fingers in the dirt, fumbling because the cringle roots were much smaller than his fingers. Because of his height it was hard to see the ground, so he would have to bend even lower, saying “oof, my back!” to make sure he only picked ripe cringle roots.

“This will not do! This will not do at all!” The croco-diamond’s mind was racing thinking: cringle yummy crunchy. Crunchy cringle crummies. Cringly crispy yummy.

“Please, step aside dear sir!” commanded the croco-diamond. “We will NEVER get to market this way!”

He began to delicately scratch at the ground, determined, though it was manual labor, to pick some cringle roots so he could have some cringle crisps.

The croco-diamond was much faster at picking than the giant man. Being lower to the ground, with his long nails, he could easily pull the cringle roots out of the earth.

The croco-diamond was able to pick 10 cringle roots in the time the giant man picked just one. Because the croco-diamond was faster at picking, the giant man busied himself back at the house making the cringle crisps. He covered the ground from the house to the field in just five steps, returning to pick up baskets when he heard the croco-diamond’s joyous “Ruf!”  indicating that yet another basket had been filled.

Left alone in the field, the croco-diamond was filled with anticipation as he pulled each cringle root out of the ground.

“Oh my beauties. I will do anything for you! You, of exceptional delicacy and taste…”

He paused, holding a shimmering purple cringle root up to the light of the sun. A solitary tear slid from the croco-diamond’s right eye.

Then, embarrassed and fearing he was being dramatic, he addressed the basket of cringle roots before him, “Well, I do like you. But, mostly when you are a cringle crisp.”

In less than two hours, they were ready to go to market with five baskets of cringle crisps. The giant man put the baskets into his ticky-tap-tap. Although there was room for the croco-diamond to sit in the front seat he decided instead he wanted to sit in the ticky-tap-tap bed with the cringle crisps. The giant man strung the purple hammock up across the bed.

“You see, this is how my people travel,” the croco-diamond told the giant man as he climbed into the hammock.

“I am used to being carried in a royal litter by eight sloth-toed land fish. A flamencio bird walks in front, sprinkling a basket of petals to mark my arrival.” The croco-diamond looked around hopefully, but there were no flamencio birds or sloth-toed land fish to be seen anywhere. “You do at least have petals? Red is my color. But what ever you have on hand will do.”

The giant man worriedly scanned his yard. No red petals. The closest thing he had was an oops-a-daisy bush and that wouldn’t flower for another month. He scratched his head, thinking quietly “um, hm, em”. And then…

“I have an idea! I read it in a book! I can tie red streamers to the front of the car. That way everyone will know there is a very important person arriving.”

The croco-diamond genteelly nodded his head in agreement. Quickly the giant man tore the red bandana he wore around his neck into strips. The strips were attached to the bumper and they were off to the market.

As the giant man drove he could hear, from the back of the ticky-tap-tap, a muffled “crunch crunch.” But when he looked in the rear-view mirror, the croco-diamond appeared to be asleep.

into the fray

Today I got my bandage contact taken out. I was dreading it but it went really well. My left eye feels scratchy, and my vision is still blurry, but I have hope it will come back because it gets better for a few seconds after I put artificial tears in. My doctor said I was really, really lucky. I could have gone blind in my left eye because the tear in my cornea was so bad.

He gave me the bandage contact, he said, "in memory of our time together". I wish I had a microscope so I could look at it in more detail.

he asked the nurse to package the contact up for me and she was like "um, what?" and he said "she has asperger's" and the nurse was like "oh" - apparently I am the first patient, ever, in his practice to keep my contact bandage

I'm guessing by Friday the past week or so will all be a distant memory. My right eye is kicking ass. And I'm catching up with spanish and my self study ground school.

I would also mention I took Major Jake in for his first oil change at groove subaru and my eyes were all watery because of the amount of artificial tears I'm putting in (I went there directly from getting my contact bandage out). They changed the oil (synthetic), rotated the tires, and washed my car. I told the manager at groove that I had a 20% off coupon but couldn't find it because my eye sight is in and out. He comped everything for me.

Nice!

Chapter 1: the giant man discovers a croco-diamond in his hammock

(if you didn't already, read the prologue to the book)

One morning, as the sun was just rising, the giant man woke up to the sound of crunching. It was not normal crunching.

It was very loud crunching.

He sat up in bed and peered out the window of his attic bedroom down to the courtyard below. There he saw, in the growing light, a croco-diamond lying on his back in the purple hammock.

He had a round, light green belly covered in cringle crisp crumbs, shiny long nails at the end of his webbed feet, and thick teeth covered in patterned white gold. Down his spine was a sparkling array of aspen diamonds, cardentine emeralds, star garnets, marlonian opals and a d.Dorian ruby once owned by a real King.

In each foot were five cringle crisps which the croco-diamond daintily placed in his mouth before snapping his snout shut with a loud munch and chomp.

Beside the croco-diamond was the basket of cringle crisps the giant man had made just the previous day. The basket was almost empty.

The giant man was puzzled for two reasons. The first: No one had seen a croco-diamond in years. They had moved deep into the swamp because fortune hunters would remove the jewels that made up the spines of the croco-diamonds while the croco-diamonds were sleeping (they sleep very deeply).

The second: Though croco-diamonds are known to eat mash pies, squiggle salads, kormy buns, broccolini casseroles, eggy tarts, okra-poker soup, and jellied-can cakes they had never been seen eating cringle crisps. Cringle crisps are made from cringle root, which is in the cringle tuber family, also known by its Latin name Crosimius Cringlecrumbium.

“Delightful morning!” called the croco-diamond, spying the giant man at his window. He spoke with an elegant Britlish accent. “I shall rest here for a bit and then I must to do something with these nails. A warm bath would be wonderful. Have you any bubbles?”

“Hm,” said the giant man. He put on his robe and walked down the narrow staircase from the attic, careful to duck his head to avoid the ceiling.

Arriving in the courtyard he found the croco-diamond brushing the crumbs from his belly with an elegant but worn cotton square. The croco-diamond then put the last cringle crisp in his mouth and looked at the front of his feet.

“I had such a nice pair of gloves for my trip but I seem to have misplaced them and walking on roads is so hard on the nails…”  

The croco-diamond stopped speaking because he noticed the giant man was staring at the path behind him that led from the courtyard out to the barn. The path was strewn with baskets. Empty baskets.

“Five, six, seven … Hm. Eight. Um, nine,” said the giant man to himself, counting the baskets.

The croco-diamond covered the front of his snout and burped into the cotton square.

“My cringle crisps. All … all of my cringle crisps?”

“I was hungry. Sometimes I do eat too much.”

The croco-diamond wiggled his tail in an attempt to sit up. The attempt failed.

“And now it’s hopeless. I’m afraid I’m stuck in this hammock.”

His snout sagged open and a small trail of drool dropped to his tummy.

“Perhaps I’ll have a bath later instead of now.”

His eyes started to close and he yawned a big croco-diamond yawn.

“But … it seems you’ve eaten all of my cringle crisps. All of them? ALL?”

At this the croco-diamond’s sleepy eyes suddenly opened, and with a great effort he managed to roll over onto his right side so he could more easily see the giant man.

“I don’t understand. Is there … a problem?”

“There is a problem. I sell cringle crisps every Thursday at the market. Today is Thursday. But there’s nothing to sell … Nothing.”

The croco-diamond blinked and then stared at the tall figure in front of him whose bath robe flapped in the gentle breeze, as if shyly pointing to all the empty baskets.

Due to his large size, strong teeth, well-polished nails and general aura of royalty, no one had ever reprimanded the croco-diamond before. But he was pretty sure he was being reprimanded, and was unsure what to do.

A feeling of sadness replaced the happy feeling of just moments before from having eaten nine baskets of cringle crisps. He put his front foot to his face and pressed it against the side of his snout.

“I just … I just don’t know what to say,” he sniffed.

His large tail thumped down dully onto the hammock and his rear feet curled into tight balls of webbing.

The giant man realized the croco-diamond was going to cry. And the worst thing is when a croco-diamond cries. First it goes sniff sniff and the eyes get a sad gleam. Then the croco-diamond makes a noise like kak, kak, clearing the lungs. One, then two egg shaped tears will roll down his cheeks, followed by a lowly murmured “neuuuuuuuu!” Sobs follow.

Croco-diamonds have a large supply of tears and can cry for a month without stopping. They still eat and polish their nails, which is very difficult to do through a curtain of tears but somehow they manage. The giant man had once heard the story of a croco-diamond that cried so much, for so long, that the croco-diamond’s snout had to buy an umbrella and galoshes.

“Oh no. Don’t. Um, it’s okay. Er, don’t cry. Please,” said the giant man as the croco-diamond’s chest puffed forward and his front feet covered his face. “It’s - it’s okay. We - we’ll make some more cringle crisps. With two of us - it’s - it won’t take long. Please don’t cry.”

The giant man moved his hand as if to pat the croco-diamond, but his hand was far away and so he just patted the air.

“Oh please, please, please! Please don’t cry!”

The croco-diamond thought for a moment, noticed his chipped nails again, and decided it would be best to delay his tears, at least for the moment. He stared at his front feet, and then his back feet, uncurling them and then wiggling each webbed digit nervously. Was he supposed to apologize now? Croco-diamonds don’t like to apologize.

“They had such a nice zing and a delicious crunch and I hadn’t eaten except for a tiny pot of cactar jam, it dries out the throat you know.”

The croco-diamond coughed a tiny cough and put his snout almost to his belly.

No, he wasn’t going to apologize.

The giant man sighed. He knew there was no point in getting angry. So he said, “I’m going to get dressed and make some breakfast. You should join me at least for some fruit because jam and cringle crisps are not a balanced diet. After breakfast we will discuss what to do next. We need a plan of action!”