'But!' mooed Captain Bill. 'But what's....what's...why....I mean why what why???'
'Sorry?' said Horace.
'There's a tree!' continued Captain Bill. 'There's a tree, there, there in my cabin! There's a tree!'
'So there is!' replied Horace.
'Well, what's it doing there?'
'I don't know,' replied Horace. 'Where did you want it?'
'What?'
'Well if you didn't want it there, where did you want it to be?'
'I...I don't want it anywhere!' exclaimed Captain Bill.
'Then, if you don't mind me asking, why did you have it put in your cabin in the first place?'
Captain Bill stared at Horace and then herded very, very close to him.
'Look,' he began, 'just because dear old Wonky Horns isn't here doesn't mean that you need to make a valiant effort to deputise for her. I didn't put the tree in my cabin. I didn't ask anyone else to put the tree in my cabin. I do not want a tree in my cabin or anywhere else for that matter. I am not, contrary to the opinion you may be currently forming some sort of clandestine arborologist. I only came in to straighten me hat. I can't even get to the mirror!'
'I rather like it,' said Horace. 'It looks slightly sad.'
'If you mention poetry.'
'The branch withered, dying, dry, held extended, the pai...'
'No!' said Captain Bill. 'Stop it! In your own time if you must but not here, not now. Right....you'll have to help me move it.'
'But I thought you said Queen Phoebe was waiting for you?' mooed Horace.
'It won't take a minute,' replied Captain Bill. 'There's two of us, we don't anyone else. We're perfectly capable of moving a small tree. Nothing can really go wrong.'
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