Subject: For Sergey: CHAPTER 7 - A Mad Tofu Party
From: openbook@sirius.com (Blackhawk)
Newsgroups: alt.fan.tom-servo
Message-ID: <openbook-0905991746140001@ppp-asfm07--155.sirius.net>
BLACKHAWK'S ADVENTURES IN SERVOLAND
Previous chapter: Pig and Peeper
CHAPTER VII
A Mad Tofu-Party
There was a table set out under a tree in front of the house, and the
March Jaime and Captain Hatter were having Tofu at it: a Mortismouse was
sitting between them, fast asleep, and the other two were using it as a
cushion, resting their elbows on it, and talking over its head. `Very
uncomfortable for the Mortismouse,' thought Blackhawk; `only, as it's
asleep, I suppose it doesn't mind.'
The table was a large one, but the three were all crowded together at one
corner of it: `No room! No room!' they cried out when they saw Blackhawk
coming.`There's plenty of room!' said Blackhawk indignantly, and he sat
down in a large arm-chair at one end of the table.
`Have some whine,' the March Jaime said in an encouraging tone.
Blackhawk looked all round the table, but there was nothing on it but
Tofu. `I don't see any whine,' he remarked.
`There isn't any,' said the March Jaime.
`Then it wasn't very civil of you to offer it,' said Blackhawk angrily.
`It wasn't very civil of you to sit down without being invited,' said the
March Jaime 'But the "Death of Civility" thread has been over for a long
time now and WWS is out of town.'
`I didn't know it was your table,' said Blackhawk; `it's laid for a great
many more than three. I imagined this was either Sergey's birthday or
Cronan's bachelor party'
`Your ego wants cutting,' said Captain Hatter. He had been looking at
Blackhawk for some time with great curiosity, and this was his first
speech.
`You should learn not to make personal remarks,' Blackhawk said with some
severity; `it's very rude.'
Captain Hatter opened his eyes very wide on hearing this; but all he said
was,`Why is a wraith like a writing-desk?'
`Come, we shall have some fun now!' thought Blackhawk. `I'm glad they've
begun trolling about Cronan.--I believe I can do some of that,' he added
aloud.
`Do you mean that you think you started it?' said the March Jaime.
`Exactly so,' said Blackhawk.
`Then you should say what you mean,' the March Jaime went on.
`I do,' Blackhawk hastily replied; `at least--at least I mean what I
say--that's the same thing, you know.'
`Not the same thing a bit!' said Captain Hatter. `You might just as well
say that "I see what I troll" is the same thing as "I troll what I see"!'
`You might just as well say,' added the March Jaime, `that "I like what I
poop" is the same thing as "I poop what I like"!'
`You might just as well say,' added the Mortismouse, who seemed to be
talking in his sleep, `that "I die when I sleep" is the same thing as "I
sleep when I die"!'
`It is the same thing with you,' said Captain Hatter, and here the
conversation dropped, and the party sat silent for a minute, while
Blackhawk thought over all he could remember about wraiths and
writing-desks, which wasn't much.
Captain Hatter was the first to break the silence. `What day of the month
is it?' he said, turning to Blackhawk: he had taken his watch out of his
pocket, and was looking at it uneasily, shaking it every now and then, and
holding it to his ear.
Blackhawk considered a little, and then said `The ninth.'
`Two days wrong!' sighed Captain Hatter. `I told you butter wouldn't suit
the works!' he added looking angrily at the March Jaime.
`It was the best butter,' the March Jaime meekly replied.
`Yes, but some crumbs must have got in as well,' Captain Hatter grumbled:
`you shouldn't have put it in with The Witch's men of butter.'
The March Jaime took the watch and looked at it gloomily: then he dipped
it into his Kaopectate, and looked at it again: but he could think of
nothing better to say than his first remark, `It was the best butter, you
know.'
Blackhawk had been looking over his shoulder with some anxiousness. `Is
this the part of the story where you explain the "Un-Birthdays?"'
`Un-Birthdays?' muttered Captain Hatter. `What are you speaking of?'
`Un-Birthdays,' Blackhawk replied very readily: `You know, everyone has
only 1 birthday, but we have 365 Un-Birthdays! You see I'm making this
satire because it was Sergey's Birthday and I spent days trying to think
of a clever way to wish him a "Happy Birthday". But his 18th birthday
means he has to go into the Israeli Army and how "happy" can that be? So I
got this great idea to tie "Alice" into his tribute and instead wish
*everyone else* in Servo a very merry Un-Birthday as a tribute to him.'
'Sad case really' said Captain Hatter, shaking his head and poiting his
tofu-spoon at Blackhawk.
'What?' replied Blackhawk
'You've made an ignorant mistake' the March Jaime answered, 'You see the
"Un-Birthday Song" only happens in the Walt Disney(tm) version of this
story and you've gone with the classic Carroll text'
`Which is just the case with mine,' said Captain Hatter.
Blackhawk felt dreadfully puzzled. Captain Hatter's remark seemed to have
no sort of meaning in it, and yet it was certainly English. `I don't quite
understand you,' he said, as politely as he could.
`The Mortismouse is asleep again,' said Captain Hatter, and he smeared a
little hot Tofu upon its nose.
The Mortismouse shook its head impatiently, and said, without opening its
eyes, `Of course, of course; just what I was going to remark myself.'
`Have you guessed the riddle yet?' Captain Hatter said, turning to
Blackhawk again.
`No, I give it up,' Blackhawk replied: `what's the answer?'
`I haven't the slightest idea,' said Captain Hatter.
`Nor I,' said the March Jaime.
Blackhawk sighed wearily. `As jdn says, I think you might do something
better with the time,' he said, `than waste it in asking riddles that have
no answers.'
`If you knew Time as well as I do,' said Captain Hatter, `you wouldn't
talk about wasting it. It's him.'
`I don't know what you mean,' said Blackhawk.
`Of course you don't!' Captain Hatter said, tossing his head
contemptuously. `I dare say you never even spoke to Time, or his friend
Bandwidth for that matter!'
`Perhaps not,' Blackhawk cautiously replied: `but I know I have to beat
time when I learn music.'
`Ah! that accounts for it,' said Captain Hatter. `He won't stand beating.
`Is that the way you manage the March Jaime?' Blackhawk asked.
Captain Hatter shook his head mournfully. `Not I!' he replied. `We
quarrelled last March--just before he went mad, you know--' (pointing with
his Tofu spoon at the March Jaime,) `--it was at the great concert given
by The Witch of Hearts, and I had to sing
"Twinkle, twinkle, little Servo!
People say I'm such a weirdo!"
You know the song, perhaps?'
`I've heard something like it,' said Blackhawk.
`It goes on, you know,' Captain Hatter continued, `in this way:--
"Up above the world you peep,
Like a Tofu-tray with dip of sheep.
Twinkle, twinkle--"'
Here the Mortismouse shook itself, and began singing in its sleep
`Twinkle, twinkle, twinkle, twinkle--' and went on so long that they had
to pinch it to make it stop.
`Well, I'd hardly finished the first verse,' said Captain Hatter, `when
The Witch...'
'The Wench' said the Mortismouse.
'It was I' exclaimed the March Jaime.
'Whoever' said Captain Hatter, 'jumped up and bawled out, "He's murdering
the time! Off with his head!"'
`How dreadfully savage!' exclaimed Blackhawk.
`And ever since that,' Captain Hatter went on in a mournful tone, `they
won't do a thing I ask! It's always six o'clock now.'
A bright idea came into Blackhawk's head. `Is that the reason so many
Tofu-things are put out here?' he asked.
`Yes, that's it,' said Captain Hatter with a sigh: `it's always Tofu-time,
and we've no time to wash the things between whiles.'
`Then you keep moving round, I suppose?' said Blackhawk.
`Exactly so,' said Captain Hatter: `as the posters get used up.'
`But what happens when you come to the beginning again?' Blackhawk
ventured to ask.
`Suppose we change the subject,' the March Jaime interrupted, yawning.
`I'm getting tired of this. I vote Blackhawk tells us a story.'
`I'm afraid I don't know one,' said Blackhawk, rather alarmed at the proposal.
`Then the Mortismouse shall!' they both cried. `Wake up, Mortismouse!' And
they pinched it on both sides at once.
The Mortismouse slowly opened his eyes. `I wasn't asleep,' he said in a
hoarse, feeble voice: `I heard every word you fellows were saying.'
`Tell us a story!' said the March Jaime.
`Yes, please do!' pleaded Blackhawk.
`And be quick about it,' added Captain Hatter, `or you'll be asleep again
before it's done.'
The Mortismouse began `Once upon a time,
One Peep walking all alone-
Trying it's best to find the way home
Meets a Peep beside the stream-
Now there are two who share the dream.'
`What did they live on?' said Blackhawk, who always took a great interest
in questions of eating and drinking.
`They lived on vicariously, at the bottom of a well' said the Mortismouse,
after thinking a minute or two.
`They couldn't have done that, you know,' Blackhawk gently remarked;
`they'd have been ill.'
`So they were,' said the Mortismouse; `very ill.'
Blackhawk tried to fancy to himself what such an extraordinary ways of
living would be like, but it puzzled him too much, so he went on: `But why
did they live at the bottom of a well?'
`Take some more Tofu,' the March Jaime said to Blackhawk, very earnestly.
`I've had nothing yet,' Blackhawk replied in an offended tone, `so I can't
take more.'
`You mean you can't take less,' said Captain Hatter: `it's very easy to
take more than nothing.'
`Nobody asked your opinion,' said Blackhawk.
`Who's making personal remarks now?' Captain Hatter asked triumphantly.
Blackhawk did not quite know what to say to this: so he helped himself to
some Tofu and bread-and-butter, and then turned to the Mortismouse, and
repeated his question. `Why did they live at the bottom of a well?'
The Mortismouse again took a minute or two to think about it, and then
said, `It was a vicarious well.'
`There's no such thing!' Blackhawk was beginning very angrily, but Captain
Hatter and the March Jaime went `Sh! sh!' and the Mortismouse sulkily
remarked, `If you can't be civil, you'd better finish the story for
yourself.'
`No, please go on!' Blackhawk said very humbly; `I won't interrupt again.
I dare say there may be one.'
`One, indeed!' said the Mortismouse indignantly. However, he consented to
go on.
`Joined by a third Peep they look under a stone-
But a friendly bug calls this place home.
Peep number four helps the search for their house-
`What kind of posters?' said Blackhawk, quite forgetting his promise.
`Newbies,' said the Mortismouse, without considering at all this time.
`I want a clean cup,' interrupted Captain Hatter: `let's all move one place on.'
He moved on as he spoke, and the Mortismouse followed him: the March Jaime
moved into the Mortismouse's place, and Blackhawk rather unwillingly took
the place of the March Jaime. Captain Hatter was the only one who got any
advantage from the change: and Blackhawk was a good deal worse off than
before, as the March Jaime had just upset the Kaopectate bottle into his
plate.
Blackhawk did not wish to offend the Mortismouse again, so he began very
cautiously: `But I don't understand. Where did they draw the newbies from?'
`You can draw water out of a water-well,' said Captain Hatter; `so I
should think you could draw newbies out of a newbie-well--eh, stupid?'
`But they were in the well,' Blackhawk said to the Mortismouse, not
choosing to notice this last remark.
`Of course they were', said the Mortismouse; `--well in.'
This answer so confused poor Blackhawk, that he let the Mortismouse go on
for some time without interrupting it.
`But this big field is home to a mouse,' the Mortismouse went on, yawning
and rubbing its eyes, for it was getting very sleepy; `and then they drew
all manner of things--everything that begins with an M--'
`Why with an M?' said Blackhawk.
`Why not?' said the March Jaime. 'We had to work her in somewhere.'
Blackhawk was silent. He wondered why Podkayne, Rev. Sean, MQS and the
others weren't in the story.
The Mortismouse had closed its eyes by this time, and was going off into a
doze; but, on being pinched by Captain Hatter, it woke up again with a
little shriek, and went on: `--that begins with an M, such as mouse-traps,
and the moon, and memory, and muchness-- you know you say things are "much
of a muchness"--did you ever see such a thing as a drawing of a muchness?'
`Really, now you ask me,' said Blackhawk, very much confused, `I don't think--'
`Then you shouldn't talk,' said Captain Hatter.
This piece of rudeness was more than Blackhawk could bear: he got up in
great disgust, and walked off; the Mortismouse fell asleep instantly, and
neither of the others took the least notice of his going, though he looked
back once or twice, half hoping that they would call after him: the last
time he saw them, they were trying to put the Mortismouse into the
Tofupot.
`At any rate I'll never do IRC again!' said Blackhawk as he picked his way
through the net. `It's the stupidest Tofu-party I ever was at in all my
life!'
Just as he said this, he noticed that one of the chat rooms had a door
leading right into it. `That's very curious!' he thought. `But
everything's curious today. I think I may as well go in at once.' And in
he went.
Once more he found himself in the long hall, and close to the little glass
table. `Now, I'll manage better this time,' he said to himself, and began
by taking the little golden key, and unlocking the door that led into the
garden. Then he went to work nibbling at the mushroom (he had kept a piece
of it in his pocket) till he was about a foot high: then he walked down
the little passage: and then--he found himself at last in the beautiful
garden, among the bright flower-beds and the cool fountains.
Next chapter: The Witch's Croquet-Ground
***
Blackhawk
A Very Merry Un-Birthday to all!
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