Cedric, Supersonic Snail

FinsburyParkCarrotsFinsburyParkCarrots Posts: 12,223
edited December 2004 in Poetry, Prose, Music & Art
Cedric the supersonic snail caught a glimpse of the reflection of his dented shell in a pendent raindrop hanging from a towering daisy stem. If only he hadn't trusted Jasper Gill, servile false friend and gastropod molluscan manager of the snail sportsworld. "I'll train you! I'll get you fit for the Insectolympics! Just tell me where you keep your lettuce, I'll take a 50% cut and come the championships you'll be streaking past all opposition, even Maximus S. Coetzee, the world's greatest Giant African Land Snail and Crawlathlon winner for these past five seasons!" Ah, he'd told Jasper where his prize store in Mr Trotter's allotment was kept, so that he'd help him get a shot at his Insectolympic dream! He'd taken Jasper's advice about a great running track in the backyard of that house on the corner with the great slidy tomato plants ... only to fall prey to the villainous Stompy the Starling, bane of the neighbourhood and fell swooper of fast-depleting Snaildom. Oh, to survive the suddenness of those pink descending talons, when precariously in mid workout sliding down a thrilling curl of a cabbage leaf! Oh, denied! The prize, the grail of fame; the chance of glory and one's antennae on the cover of Celebrity Invertebrates Quarterly! Hopes all dashed, with a cracked shell!
But as Cedric wept with his head upon the soil in despair of his fate, his good chum Anthony the Ant cycled past him. "Toot toot, old fella! Cheer up! Can't be all that bad! What's wrong, my lad? Ooooh, I see, you took a nasty knock from old Stompy! You'll have to watch him. He's always lurking about that house on the corner, in the backyard with the tomato plants. Yes, he got his beak right into your shell there! You had a close one! How did you manage to get away?"
"This great ginger cat flew out of the catflap of the back door of the house at the propitious moment", sighed Cedric in between "ooo's" and "aaah's" of soreness and acknowledgement of near calamity.
"What were you doing in that backyard anyway, Ced?", asked Anthony, doing a wheelie as he circled the daisy round and round.
"Jasper sent me there. He promised to be my manager and help train me for the Insectolympics; he asked me for a cut of my lettuce store and I offered him 50% of Mr Trotter's allotment plot. He then recommended that backyard on the corner as a good training ground! He said it would help me beat Maximus! Drat and double drat. That confounded slug tricked me and now he's up at Trotter's, munching my lunch!"
"Dashed bad luck," mused Ant, starting to cycle away. "But you know what, you're my real pal, so I'll tell you what. I know a weevil who's really into the second hand shell business. I'll bike 'round to his place and see if I can do a special deal for you to get you back on track. Now, what's your shell-size?"
"Er, lightweight at this rate! Jasper's eating all my food!"

******

And so, it verily came to pass that when Ant told Mr Fidget the weevil all about Cedric's sorry predicament, Mr Fidget donated the best shell in his shed ("Here's one that's rumoured to have been owned by Speedy McSplodge the demon snail sprinter of 'sixty seven! He had it customised with self-squirting WD40 for extra acceleration and ease around those grassy knolls. The facility still works! There's nothing in the Insectolympics to rule it out as performance-enhancing! You'll sail past!"). It fitted Cedric like a dream ("Wow, thanks, Ant! You're my bestest bestest buddy ever!") and, come the tournament, there was our hero, on the starting line, ready to compete snail to snail with the legendary Maximus! "Grrrrrrrr squelch!", growled Maximus towering over poor Ced before the flag was lowered to start the garden obstacle course, across hurdles of candy wrappers and windblown bus tickets. "Gulp!", gulped Ced as they began! At first, Ced's WD40 seized and he couldn't move at all! He was stuck on the start line as Maximus forged ahead titantically! But with a call from Ant ("move backwards then forwards! That'll get it going!") Ced's shell eased up and Ced shot forwards like a tortoise past a hare! Banjaxed and befuddled, Maximus stopped drop-feelered in his sludgy tracks as the little champ-to-be bombed past him! Neeeeeeeaaaaaaaaaagggggghhhh!!!!!! Cedric the Supersonic Snail!!!! To the finish line and a lifetime's supply of prize Iceberg!

* * * * *

Meanwhile, Mr Trotter finished spraying his allotment.....

________
Post edited by Unknown User on

Comments

  • anOmisanOmis Posts: 223
    Interesting reading!

    *thumbs up*
    ~~dont mind yer make up, just make up yer mind~~

    ~~its better to be hated for who you are than be loved for who you are not~~

    F.ZAPPA
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