'And that...that was supposed to be good for us?' gasped Captain Bill.
'I......................I...I can't feel my horns!' mooed Horace.
Captain Bill glanced at Horace.
'They're still there.'
'Thanks!' said Horace.
'Fifty billion million times he made me run around that deck,' continued Captain Bill.
'Actually it was only once,' replied Horace, 'and then you fainted...again!'
'Well it felt like fifty billion million times,' insisted Captain Bill. 'I don't think I've got more than half a hoof left and me hat's not on straight, I can sense it.'
'He made me lift things,' said Horace.
'That's easier than running,' replied Captain Bill.
'Why is it?' asked Horace.
'Stands to reason,' replied Captain Bill. 'Your average person is used to lifting things. Cups of tea, cake.....biscuits. You're lifting things all the time.'
'I can assure you there wasn't a cup of tea in sight,' said Horace.
'Running, that's much worse.'
'Or cake!'
'Fifty billion million billion times,' continued Captain Bill.
'I can't do it again.'
'I had to turn corners as well!'
'What are we going to do?' asked Horace.
'There's nothing we can do,' replied Captain Bill. 'Let's face it, we're finished! Finished I tell you! Trapped in a store room, surrounded by hostiles. There's no hope of escape. This is it! This is the end!'
But at that moment a panel in the wall slid open and a well dressed figure in a silk dressing gown and matching smoking cap wandered into the room.
'Afternoon,' said Cyril.
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