separation anxiety

My work friend C has been moved from across me to the upstairs of our building. It's like she's in a universe far, far away. The only upside we can see to this crap situation is that we'll both be getting more steps on our fitbits when we visit each other.

But before she moved we played one final prank (we are known, or in some cases not known, for our little pranks). C is sort of a hoarder and had tons and tons of papers in various cabinets and overheads in her cube. She was despairing moving it and I, the minimalist, was like "just throw it all away". But it all had to be thrown in a shredder which would have taken hours because the opening is so small (no one could find the key for the lid).

So I said "let's put the papers in Mr. Army's office." Which we did. We put piles everywhere on his desk. We threw CDs on the floor. Etc.

Well, when Mr. Army finally came to work on Wednesday (he was out monday and tuesday supposedly with an ear infection but rumor mill says he was taking care of his girlfriend who just got fake boobs) he had a coronary.

As it turns out, most of the papers we put on his desk my colleague C had inherited from her colleague D who we don't like at all. Prank bonus points. Mr. Army took one look at the papers, saw they were D's papers, and in proper adult style took the papers and threw them all over D's cube while screaming "WHY DID YOU PUT YOUR SHIT ALL OVER MY OFFICE?????" D cowered in a corner and denied they were her papers, which just made Mr. Army madder. It was seriously a lot of papers. Like 3 large garbage bags worth of papers.

Then today C was cleaning her cube with cleaning supplies and we found one cabinet she had forgotten to empty. She was like "fuck me, I have to carry all this shit upstairs?" and I said "um, no, because we can put it in Mr. Army's office."

We hid little piles of papers in every desk drawer and cabinet in his cube. He will never find them all until he retires and cleans everything out.

Chapter 11: A Crafty Feller Commits A Crime

Besides cringle picking and mitten making, the croco-diamond spent, it was noticed, a lot of time in the library. He said he was doing research to cure his cringle crisp allergy.

The kangawrong was also busy - peeling, knitting, and fancy hopping. It was so industrious with these activities that it didn’t have time to fix its fedora, but continued to wear it even though the brim had fallen off and only one ear hole was still intact because of the accident in the ton-o-tap.

The giant man’s production was going well, sales were steady at the market, and after calculating profits he determined in two weeks time he would be ready to send his first batch of cringle crisps to a store.

#

One evening in the library the giant man reminded the croco-diamond he needed the design for the cringle crisp packaging soon and the croco-diamond’s portrait needed to be taken for the box. The croco-diamond had also promised to design the lettering on the packaging, which would say “Croco-diamond Crisps.”

The croco-diamond, who didn’t seem to be listening, responded only with a request for the giant man to buy him some termaters the next day at the market. He didn’t look up from the book he was reading, Ancienti Mexicani Miracali Cures.

So the giant man addressed the croco-diamond sternly. “Renaming the cringle crisp to croco-diamond crisps is what you wanted more than anything in all of the worlds. How ever, you don’t seem to be working on the packaging. Or marketing.” He paused. “Is everything okay?”

The croco-diamond looked at the giant man. He said only one word.

“Termaters.”

#

When the giant man gave the croco-diamond the termaters he took them out to his hammock. Later, when the giant man checked the croco-diamond’s hammock, he discovered the termaters had disappeared.

#

The night before the second mitten delivery, all, except for the croco-diamond, went to bed early. Having finished his review of his plan for the next day’s mitten mission, the croco-diamond sat at the kitchen table to study another plan.

The next morning the giant man found the green tops of the termaters neatly disposed of in the trash. He knew the croco-diamond had used the chopping knife because he had put it back in the wrong place.

“Every time odd things stop happening around here odd things start happening again. And it always seems to involve one particular individual.” The giant man sighed then began preparing breakfast.

#

Arriving once again on the wharf, this time without the kangapult, all found the whitey biteys they had met before, and four more, waiting in the water. The whitey biteys had been talking excitedly as all approached the edge of the wharf but stopped speaking on seeing the kangawrong, who was hopping in the lead carrying mittens.

Earl said, “Howdy pardner. Uh, we got us here a sishu-a-shun. A serious sishu-a-shun.”

The croco-diamond ran in front of the kangawrong and gently pushed it aside.

“As the commander of this mission I am the lead situation solver. Forthwith, do tell, what is the nature of the problem?”

“I can’t never unnerstan’ that one when he’s talkin,” muttered Earl.

“What happened?” asked the giant man.

“Well, seems we done got ourselves robbed from our mittens by that evil feller. Goes by the name octapeu. He’s one of them types, you know, eats fancy cheeses and puts on airs all a time. ‘Specially ‘bout pickles.”

“His name, as you pronounce it, sounds Freuch,” mentioned the croco-diamond.

“Well, what ever type of name the feller has he done stoled our mittens,” said Evett.

“Have you an idea of this, er, feller’s location? We shall go there post haste and unmit him of the mittens!”

“He’s a real sneaky feller. But we got a suspishun he’s done hid hiself inna cave.”

“Ah. He’s concealed in a cave...” The croco-diamond didn’t like caves. At all. They were dark and made him afraid. But he wouldn’t show fear.

So he said, “I will command this mission. Perhaps, sir, you can proceed with the whitey biteys to the cave.”

He gestured to indicate that the giant man should jump into the water.

“I can’t hold my breath that long under water. Is the cave down deep?” asked the giant man.

“It’s a ways down, yepper,” said Evett.

“Right then.” The croco-diamond turned to the kangawrong. “I bet you can hold your breath longer than the giant man. And with those large feet you’re sure to be a strong swimmer.”

The kangawrong did not look very sure. In fact, it didn’t even know how to swim.

“Come now, it will be just like having a bath. You like having baths don’t you?” whispered the croco-diamond so none could see that the kangawrong might not follow his order.

The kangawrong clasped its fingers together and wriggled them rapidly wrigglely wriggley. It had always done what ever the croco-diamond had asked. But it did not want to go into an underwater cave. It looked at the giant man with eyes that stretched from its ears to its muzzle.

“It can’t swim. Its arms are too short,” said the giant man.

“But its ears are quite long. Perhaps with its ears...ear paddling...a new swim stroke like fancy hopping...” The croco-diamond smiled hopefully at the kangawrong.

“No. it can’t go.” The kangawrong looked relieved. “If you don’t go, none will go.”

“Well, then. We can always knit replacement mittens and let this octopeu, er, feller, keep what he’s pilfered.”

“But ah, what if that feller jest takes em new ones when we git more? Likely that’s what he’s a gonna do, that crafty feller,” said Earl.

“This octopeu is quite crafty and has created a conundrum.”

The croco-diamond paced back and forth, scared to go underwater and into a cave. In the past he had done some dangerous things, but always to gain a jewel, never to help others.

All eyes followed the croco-diamond as he paced, mumbling, “And me without even my Strogatzian Sword. Going into a cave unarmed. My jewels. It’s going to be cold. And dark.”

The largest of the whitey biteys, sensing the croco-diamond’s reluctance, said, “Doncha worry ‘bout it pardner. We gonna be okay. We done troubled y’all enough. Thank ya kindly anyways fer thinkin’ ‘bout us time before when ya brought us them gifts of fine mittens. Which we got robbed of.”

The kangawrong held out one of the newly-knitted mittens to the whitey biteys.

“Naw, we ain’t gonna take no more them mittens ‘cause that crafty feller jest gonna steal ‘em like he done before. But thank ya kindly. We shore did like them fine mittens.”

The largest whitey bitey waved at all on the wharf with his fin, then said, “Awright boys, let’s get us back on down with them fishes an’ such.”

Suddenly the croco-diamond stopped pacing and stood on his back legs. He held his right foot up and pointed a shiny nail toward the sky.

“Gentlemen, your attention please! I have a plan!”

Growl-o-ween party

I was invited by Serenity Springs Sanctuary to spend Halloween evening getting a private tour, with some other donors, of the sanctuary. It should be hopping at night. I am hoping to finally see the mountain lion, who is rather reclusive during the day.

I accepted the invite and invited my work friend C (actually, I told her she has to come with me).

Today I got an email from Bentley that said he can't wait to see me at the growl-o-ween party. I'm interested to see what he's like at a party because he's usually pretty shy.

Also, the sanctuary said that if the weather holds I can sleep next to his enclosure. Which would be so cool. I have to figure out what to wear. I've never been to a tiger sleep over before.

One of my colleagues said "Oh nice, he can dream about eating you." No. He likes me. He wouldn't eat me.

Another colleague suggested that, as my costume, I should just put on a name tag with someone else's name on it "and then act like you're a normal person."

Hee.

And as follow up, my colleague who took her kids to the sanctuary said they had an amazing time and they got a private tour. Her son was ecstatic. Her daughter wants to be a veterinarian now so I'm arranging for her to shadow the vet when she does her rounds at the sanctuary.

Now I have to rest my eyes and stop looking at computer screens...

Chapter 10: They Accept the Request of the Whitey Biteys

The kangawrong attempted to toss another mitten into the water but because it had such short little arms the mitten landed on the edge of the wharf.

“I could probably toss the mitten very far, maybe even to the end of the ocean,” said the croco-diamond, who in fact wasn’t sure he could toss the mitten far at all, “but I am in charge of the mission. I can’t do both things.”

He held up his papers and shuffled through them so all could see that he was too busy to toss mittens.

The giant man held the kangawrong up and over the water so that it could drop the mittens in, one by one. After each fell in the water the croco-diamond would shout “Mitten transmission confirmation!” and would check off an item on his papers.

They waited in anticipation but…

Nothing happened.

The mittens floated in a circle, bobbing up and down in the waves. A sea goon landed near one, saw it wasn’t edible, and flew off.

“Hold on…I have something here…in the event of the whitey biteys not arriving on schedule with the mission…” The croco-diamond shuffled his papers. “Ah ha, it’s here!” He pointed at the papers and then held them up.

“Unleash and prepare the signaler!”

“What?” asked the giant man.

“You know, the spoon,” whispered the croco-diamond.

Right as the giant man untied the spoon and was handing it to the kangawrong who was, according to the plan, in charge of making a sun signal with it, four whitey biteys popped their heads out of the water right in the middle of the mitten circle. They looked at the spoon, looked at each other, and then the one with the largest fins turned to the wharf.

“Howdy pardners. Say there little poke-a-wrong, is that there contraption ya got a mir-roar?”

“Greetings fine sir. I am the official question responder.” The whitey bitey turned to the croco-diamond. “It is, indeed sir, a mirror.” He looked at the giant man, who nodded his head yes in support of the croco-diamond’s statement.

“Well then there fellers, ya think y’all kin lower that there contraption inna here so’s we kin use it?”

“Plunge the contraption,” whispered the croco-diamond and the kangawrong lowered the spoon into the water. The whitey biteys swam through the mitten circle, carefully choosing which they wanted. None chose a matching set of mittens but one doesn’t tell a whitey bitey how to wear mittens. Then they swam up to the spoon, admiring their reflections.

“Looka over there at Earl. Them are some fiiiine lookin’ mittens on Earl,” said one.

“An’ I’m gonna wear them fine mittens all the winter long so’s my fins don’t git so cold,” said another, who must have been Earl.

“Why, jest wait ‘til them other fishes gets a load of us. I ain’t gonna look so cold no more.”

“I tole y’all you all’d be glad ya come,” said the whitey bitey that had taken the first mitten.

“Yepper, you was shore right ‘bout that, Evett. Ya done good.” The largest whitey bitey looked up at the wharf. “Well then pardners, we shore do thank ya kindly for y’all bringin’ us them fine mittens. They’s warmed me up already.”

“But say, ah, fellers, ah, y’all got you anymore them mittens?” asked Earl.

“Now Earl,” said the one that was Evett. “Don’t you be gettin’ greedy on them fellers.”

“Well, ah, I was just askin’ ‘cause there’s more others that needs them some mittens too. So’s nobody gets them some cold fins on themselves.”

“Now Earl,” said the largest of the group. “We’s can share them fine mittens. Don’t be troublin’ them fellers none. Y’all bein’ rude.”

“Pardon me, sir, if I may,” said the croco-diamond. “The, er, feller, with the spoon, ahem, mirror, is a First Chair Knitter. And I am, as is probably apparent, a Yarn Impresario. And as the commander of this mitten mission, that being me, and as the instrumenter of plans, design, and such with and thus things as relates to the mittens, my duties and responsibilities would forthwith require I address your requests. And in the affirmative.”

“Er, ‘scuse me, but I ain’t unnerstandin’ yer words too good.”

“We’ll make you more mittens,” the giant man said.

“We don’t want to be no bother.”

Realizing now the whitey biteys were simple people the croco-diamond addressed them as such. “It’s no bother at all. We love to make mittens.”

Then he placed his front foot on the kangawrong’s head proudly and in a manner he thought would look folksy. The kangawrong clapped its hands pat pat pat.

It was agreed that the next week they would bring eight more mittens. All were happy on the drive home that their good deed turned out to be a really good deed.

There was no way for them to know that something horrible was about to happen.

Chapter 9: They Execute (almost) Perfectly the Mitten Plan

Soon the croco-diamond (Yarn Impresario) and kangawrong (First Chair Knitter) had completed four sets of mittens. Each mitten had an intricate pattern as orchestrated by the croco-diamond and knitted by the kangawrong. The croco-diamond bragged about his hard work designing the mittens, but also surprisingly praised the kangawrong for its knitting prowess.

“It’s quite good with its hands,” he told the giant man, “once it can reach things.”

“I think tomorrow we should deliver the mittens,” said the giant man, because it was the day of the week when they normally rested.

“That would be grand! Shall I send them my calling card?” The croco-diamond looked around his hammock for the calling cards he had drawn for himself one night in the library.

 “I haven’t thought out how we are going to deliver the mittens to them,” said the giant man. “I don’t believe you can send a calling card to the whitey biteys since they live in the ocean.”

The croco-diamond imagined his royal calling card floating inelegantly in the water and it made him sad.

“Surely, I wish I had brought my Bereford moo horn with me from the swamps. I had it for such a long time but never could find a use for it. Well, not to worry, I am going to devise a mission for the delivery.”

And so, excited, the croco-diamond stayed up until late in the night planning the mission to deliver the mittens. The kangawrong stayed up to help. The giant man sat with them in the library for a while, reading a book on termater companion planting that the croco-diamond had been looking at. But, feeling sleepy, he finally went to bed.

Reviewing the third book of the Poggly Woggly adventure series for inspiration, the croco-diamond initially determined that they should build a mitten cannon. But the croco-diamond was not well versed in gun powder and felt that it might be dangerous, especially given the kangawrong’s enormous feet and its habit of hopping on the wrong things.

So the croco-diamond sat at the library table, scratching his snout with a pencil…thinking…thinking…thinking…

“I’ve got it! We shall build a kangapult!”

The croco-diamond made a quick sketch and the kangawrong gathered up the needed materials. It seemed to know exactly where was kept the twine, wood, and scissors. And it was very adept at putting things together. So much so that the croco-diamond was genuinely surprised.

#

The next day they all climbed into the giant man’s ticky-tap-tap. On the front seat, between the giant man and the kangawrong, sat the pile of mittens. In the back next to the croco-diamond, in his hammock, were the kangapult, a spoon, and one of the giant man’s flip flops with the straps removed. Oh, and a large ball of twine.

Though the croco-diamond had hoped to build a siege craft of intricate design, given the time and materials, he had to settle for something less elaborate. He and the kangawrong had taken the zippy shoe skate apart and had fashioned it into what looked like, and this is not said in an unkind way, a seesaw with two wheels in the middle that were tied on with twine.

Once the kangapult was in place they would tie the flip flop to one end and the spoon to the other. According to the design, the mitten was placed in the bowl of the spoon, which rested on the ground. At the other end, the kangawrong would high jump onto the flip flop which would be suspended pretty high in the air. As the flip flop hit the ground the mitten would be thrown into the air and, one hoped anyway, into the water near where the whitey biteys might be.

They drove down a dirt road, bordered on either side with fields of crops, until suddenly they came to a hill. Over the hill was a vast beach of red sand. A light-green surf gently spread itself out on the beach before returning back into the waves. A crooked and dilapidated wooden wharf extended out from the beach into the water.

“OH NO!” Shouted the croco-diamond when he saw the water. “This is a DISASTER!”

“What’s wrong?” Asked the giant man.

“We didn’t test the mittens in green water. We tested them in clear water. The colors are going to be off. They will look horrible!”

In previous times, at this discovery, the croco-diamond would have started crying, and would have cried for days. Weeks. He would have cried for so long it would be the longest time in all the worlds.

But now that he was leading a mission, and had a kangawrong that looked up to him, at least according to the giant man, he couldn’t, wouldn’t, allow himself to cry. Instead, he requested the kangawrong follow him to the water’s edge with a mitten. There he was relieved to see that the water softened and even enhanced the colors. The mittens still looked nice.

“Well, that problem was easy for me to fix! Shall we move on and continue to execute the mission?”

They embarked out onto the wharf. First the croco-diamond, in charge of the mission, went out thump thump skrrrr skrrr, swinging his tail from side to side to clear any possible splinters to protect the kangawrong’s feet. Next the kangawrong went hop hip hop hop bump. Finally the giant man, carrying all of the parts for the kangapult, thum shudder thum shudder.

boom! (from when he set the parts of the kangapult down on the wharf)

The giant man helped the kangawrong set up the kangapult while the croco-diamond read off his instructions, occasionally checking the position of the sun to make sure things were happening on time. He paced back and forth in front of the kangapult frantically consulting his papers as the giant man and the kangawrong wound twine, placed parts, and adjusted angles, until finally -

“If I could have your attention PLEASE!” commanded the croco-diamond.

“Is the spoon situated?”

Though he could see it was, as it was right in front of him, he insisted the kangawrong give a little HOP! that it was situated.

“And the flip flop fastened?”

HOP!

“The twine - er - twound?”

HOP!

“The mitten positioned?”

HOP!

“Then by my order, as a croco-diamond, leader of this mission, and member of the royal order of this croco-talion…”

He had made that up, actually there’s no such thing as a croco-talion. But he thought it sounded official.

“…on this day, at this particular time…”

He checked the position of the sun, then referred to his piece of paper to make sure they were right on time.

“…for the mission on which we’ve embarked, for the good people of the oceans, here after referred to by their formal name, of which the name is and shall be the whitey biteys, of the genus charcharodon whitemous…”

He noticed that perhaps the giant man and kangawrong were becoming a bit bored, so he decided to skip the part of his speech about the dorsality and jawsissimmi of the whitey biteys to get on with the mission.

“I hereby command, ye there the approaching forward kangawrong, the preparing for, and, ye, the commencement of…”

And with that the kangawrong high hopped up onto the flip flop (a bit early but the croco-diamond excused the poor thing for being nervous and resolved to finish his speech later, at dinner, there were still 10 pages left). The flip flop side of the zippy shoe skate, correction, the kangapult, hit the wharf, which shuddered with a wooden creak brrrm. The spoon shot into the air and the mitten in its bowl arced gracefully up, up in the air, flying flying flying!

And then it landed, rather anticlimactically, on the croco-diamond’s snout.

The kangawrong’s ears fell flat. Its eyes went PLOCK PLOCK.

“One moment, I’m checking the plan…” The croco-diamond shuffled through his papers, muttering, “But, but I’m GOOD at physics.”

Suddenly an ocean wind blew across the croco-diamond’s snout, carrying the mitten off the wharf! And into the water!

“Quick! Quick!” shouted the croco-diamond. “We must…”

Just then a triangular fin broke the surface. And a rotund head with two black eyes popped up, bearing a mouth full of boy that’s a lot of teeth. It looked at all who stood on the wharf. The creature slipped a fin into the mitten and disappeared beneath the water.

“As I was, ahem, saying, we must have included some extra steps in the plan which, in the interest of efficiency, I now think we can eliminate.”

He gestured to the kangawrong.

 “Carry on with the mission.”

Chapter 8: They Receive Their Correction

“Of course, I will expect you to help me replace the cringle crisps that were ruined. In addition, I also expect you to do something to help others in the hopes you might learn something from your mistake. Follow me to the barn.”

They walked to the barn and the giant man rummaged around in a hayloft, finally producing two large balls of yarn. One was OrangeUGlad and the other was BananaSafely.

“You are going to knit mittens for the whitey biteys to protect their fins from the cold.”

“I must say, these colors, well, I should think perhaps something more dignified…”

The giant man gave the croco-diamond the look so the croco-diamond thought it best to discontinue his commentary on the yarn.

As he did before the colossal cringle crisp caper, the croco-diamond went out to the field and began picking cringle roots, glad to be away from the giant man and kangawrong. They made him feel bad.

He was unaware that something terrible was about to happen to him.

#

As the giant man, in the kitchen, finished a basket of crisps, and the kangawrong carried it out to the courtyard, the scent of cringle crisps wafted out to the croco-diamond. The scent grew stronger and suddenly the croco-diamond ceased to be able to pick. His snout went blech klech. He felt sick, as if he might pass out.

“Help me! Help me!” he cried, burying his snout with his front feet. “I am going to DIE!”

The giant man and the kangawrong ran out to the field to see what was wrong with the croco-diamond. It appeared that, due to his being in a coma, he could no longer stand the smell of cringle crisps. The thought of eating one, which occurred to him as the giant man covered his snout with a wet bandana, made him feel even more ill.

They tried a few things to help the croco-diamond, finally tying a mumsy-whirl to his nose to blow the smell of the cringle crisps away from his nostrils so he could resume picking without smelling the cringle crisps.

But the croco-diamond was very upset. How could he possibly continue on in life not being able to eat the best food in all of the worlds? Or think of eating a cringle crisp with out wanting to bleccccccch?

#

That evening the kangawrong and giant man put the baskets of cringle crisps into the barn so that the croco-diamond would not have look at them on his way in from the fields. And later that night, as they sat in the courtyard, with the correction of knitting mittens commencing, the croco-diamond made an offer to the giant man.

“I was wondering if I might use your library to do some studies. In exchange, I will share with you my business ideas, which are assuredly worth a lot of money, and may help save the farm.” He wound a bit of yarn around his nails and watched the kangawrong begin its first mitten.

“Of course you can use my library,” said the giant man. “And I’m interested to hear your money-making ideas.”

“First, you could write the story of my life. That would surely bring in millions. And should perhaps include also a hat collection representing my many achievements.”

He wound some yarn around his head and whispered to the kangawrong, whom he didn’t want to feel left out of the adult conversation, “Look, I’m a croco-yarn!” The kangawrong tapped its knitting needles together clack clack in applause.

“Hm,” said the giant man.

“Second, I could record an album of songs about cringle crisps. I have a wonderful voice and a talent for composing catchy lyrics.” He took the knitting needles from the kangawrong and pretended to play the drums. “Bim bom bingle! Criiiiispy cringlesssss!”

“I see.”

“The record would have to have at least two dance singles.” The croco-diamond pulled more yarn from the yarn ball, and, holding it in his front feet, jumped up onto his back feet and began to dance, waving the yarn. “Wringle jingle! Come on people! Every Body! Do the cringle!” The kangawrong joined him with some fancy hops.

“Well, what do you think of my proposals?”

“I - I have to think your ideas over. They are - a departure from what we currently do on the farm.”

“Out of the box, dear sir! I am thinking out of the box! In the mean time, I have one more idea. Easy to implement. Sure to be a winner.”

“Okay.”

“We immediately rename the cringle crisp to the croco-diamond crisp. Brilliant marketing if I do say so myself.”

Satisfied that he had made up for all of the bad behavior he had done the previous days with his suggestions, he rolled more yarn from the yarn ball and settled into his hammock to better supervise the kangawrong. It had just completed knitting its second mitten.

“These are quite nice, but how about more OrangeUGlad in the next pair?” And he patted the kangawrong’s head. “You may have little arms but you are surely a fast knitter.”

The kangawrong’s large tail wagged and the whiskers on its little muzzle went “twitch twitch.”

After the kangawrong finished the fourth mitten, the croco-diamond said, “Well, I think we’ve done enough of our 'helping others' activities for the day. I shall retire to the library for a bit before bed time.”

The giant man looked in on the croco-diamond before he went to bed. The croco-diamond had stacked before him on the library table The Book of Cures for All of the Ailments, a book on plants, and d’Arthur D’Parther’s Heart Recipes From the Heart.

But he was not reading those. He was engrossed in the third book of the Poggly Woggly adventure series.

Chapter 7: After a Long Time the Croco-diamond Recovers From His Coma

First, the giant man offered to the driver the use of his home to clean off the cactar jam. But the driver, having seen enough, thought it sufficient to wipe himself off with the giant man’s bandana. He then got into the cab of the ton-o-tap and locked all the doors.

Second, the giant man asked the kangawrong to come out of the ton-o-tap. It didn’t move.

“Please?” Asked the giant man.

It shook its head flap flap. A cringle crisp fell out of its left ear. So the giant man said, “I’m not angry with you. But the driver must leave and he can’t if you are still inside the ton-o-tap.”

It crept slowly, making an awful SCREE CREE sound with its feet. It paused to pick up its fedora, which had fallen off in the melee.

The giant man reached down to help the kangawrong out of the ton-o-tap and noticed its poor oversized feet were cut and bleeding from stepping on the broken baskets. He picked it up in his arms and then lightly tapped the croco-diamond.

“Up please. Up.”

The croco-diamond made a gurgling noise but didn’t move.

“Up Croc!”

No response from the croco-diamond except for air phhhft coming out of his snout.

“I will have to bring you back to the house in the mono-cart if you won’t walk.”

It appeared perhaps the croco-diamond did raise its eyelids a bit at the giant man’s pronouncement, but surely that was the giant man’s imagination because those in a cringle crisp coma can’t move. And a not-in-a-coma croco-diamond would be mortified to be carried in a mono-cart because they are designed to carry rocks and are not dignified at all.

The giant man did carry the croco-diamond home in the mono-cart. And put him in his hammock. And then went to the kitchen to set the kangawrong right.

In the kitchen sink the giant man did his best to wash the kangawrong but even after a thorough scrub the purple color from the crushed cringle crisps remained in spots on its fur.

Though its feet must have hurt terribly from the cuts, once it realized it wasn’t in trouble, it splashed happily in the water and indicated, with its short little arms, that the giant man should make a pile of bubbles on its head like the croco-diamond always did when he bathed the kangawrong.

After its bath the giant man put the kangawrong on the kitchen table and wrapped both of its feet in puffy white bandages. “You’ll have to stay off of those for a few days so they heal. Hm. One minute, I need to find something.”

He rummaged through the closet, then the attic, and finally the barn, returning to the kangawrong with a child’s zippy shoe skate, which he adjusted to the very smallest setting.

“This was my skate as a boy,” he said. He lifted the kangawrong into the shoe. “You can use this to get around.” He handed the kangawrong the crutches it had used earlier in, perhaps best to call it, the accident with the ton-o-tap. “You can use these crutches for steering.”

After a few tries the kangawrong proved to be very adept at moving and steering the zippy shoe skate with the crutches. It used the crutches to maneuver the fedora from the kitchen table, where the giant man had placed it during bath time, into the skate. The fedora was in a sorry state, having gotten trampled and torn. It did stay on the kangawrong’s head, but just barely.

The croco-diamond was another matter. He lay disheveled in his hammock, snooting and phooting, but otherwise not moving or making a sound.

The kangawrong skate-crutched over to the hammock and began to gently clear away the crumbs from the croco-diamond’s spine. Then it polished his nails, which, given every thing that happened, weren’t in horrible shape. And finally it wiped the croco-diamond’s face with a soft damp cloth, imagining it heard the croco-diamond say “perhaps the right nostril could use a better wipe, please.”

#

After a few days, the kangawrong was out of the zippy shoe skate, and able to hop, though it wasn’t quite up to fancy steps or foot slaps. It continued to care for the croco-diamond, who, it was thought, might indefinitely remain in a cringle crisp coma. When not caring for the croco-diamond it helped the giant man make new baskets for the cringle crisps.

“It’s a shame he’s in a coma,” the giant man said to the kangawrong on the third night of the croco-diamond’s unconsciousness. “I am sure he’s not just faking it to avoid answering for his actions regarding the accident with the ton-o-tap.”

The croco-diamond breathed phfooo plllooo but didn’t move.

“His coma does give me more time to plan for a suitable correction to his behavior. And the more time I have to think, the more suitable it will be.”

#

Miraculously, the very next morning the croco-diamond stirred in his hammock and requested the kangawrong bring him some ginger juice. Then he did some calisthenics, as he did some mornings when he felt his belly was getting a little too big. Just as he paused to stretch the giant man came out to the courtyard.

“Lovely morning isn’t it? I feel so refreshed after a good night’s sleep. And it appears that my belly is a little flatter today than yesterday, don’t you agree?” The croco-diamond patted his belly and smiled at the giant man.

“You’ve been asleep for three days, in a coma.”

“I HAVE?”

“We have to talk about the robbery.”

“Robbery? Were we robbed again? By the clouds?” The croco-diamond touched his jeweled spine. “Yes, they must have hit me on the head and caused my coma.”

“In a colossal caper you and the kangawrong robbed the ton-o-tap and destroyed all the cringle crisps.”

“Why… I have no memory of that at all. Are you sure it was me and not some imposter?”

The giant man spoke calmly, but sternly, to the croco-diamond, in a tone that said he meant business.  “Quite. And you should have seen the kangawrong’s feet. Really, I never expected you to do something that could jeopardize the farm. If I have nothing to sell how will I ever pay my bills? And we’ll have no place to live.”

At this the croco-diamond lowered his head and felt bad. And even worse when he saw, out of the corner of his eye, the kangawrong’s feet and its light purple fur.

“Perhaps the kangawrong set me up!” he suddenly exclaimed. “And we know it’s a bit daft, so it’s not to blame for its wrong doings! We should just forgive it and carry on! Just like when it destroyed the termaters in the market...”

The giant man shook his head sadly. “You won’t take responsibility for what you did?”

“How can I take responsibility for that which I don’t remember doing?” cried the croco-diamond. He was upset that clouds and kangawrong had conspired against him to make him appear guilty for a crime he could not possibly have committed.

“And you won’t apologize?”

“Certainly not!”

“Well then, we can move on to the next topic of conversation. Which is your correction.”

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.