Monday, 20 January 2014
'I accept what you're saying,' said Bertha, 'but for me the physicality of sculpture will always mean that the three dimensional will triumph over the two dimensional art form.'
Geraldine thought very carefully for some time about Bertha's response before nibbling a herring and sliding about on her stomach.
'Anyway,' continued Bertha, 'while I'd be very happy to continue the debate I think we'd better get on don't you?'
Geraldine stood up, flapped her wings and then stared off in a random direction.
'Right,' said Bertha, 'now where were we? Ah yes! Four thousand emergency breakfasts.'
So Bertha finished loading the last of the four thousand emergency breakfasts onto the Pickled Heifer and Geraldine ticket them off of the ship's manifest.
'That's Cyril taken care of,' said Bertha. 'What's next?'
'Afternoonables!' mooed Annie.
'Afternoon,' replied Bertha.
'Permission for us to come aboard?'
'Us?' queried Bertha.
'Myself and Mrs Tree,' replied Annie and she indicated towards a trolley she had been pulling along.
Geraldine held up her clipboard for Bertha to look at.
'Not on the inventory,' said Bertha.
'Mrs Tree is a late addition,' replied Annie, 'I was speaking to my chum Mr Baron Cyril of Whatsinitformeshire and we agreed that it would be both cruel and unfair for Captain Eyepatch to be separated from his newly betrothed...so I've dug her up.'
'And you're intending to bring her with us?' asked Bertha.
'Indeed!' said Annie and she nodded and her hats fell off. 'As a surprise for Captain Thingimy. My expectation is that he'll be deeply, deeply, deeply, deeply, deeply, deeply, deeply, deeply, deeply, deeply grateful.'
Bertha momentarily struggled with her inner self and then said.
'Best put her in his cabin then!'