Norma herded nervously up and down, worrying a small hole in the grass, as she waited for Camille and Captain Bill to arrive.
'Camille!' she called and waved her tail hat, and in return Camille got Captain Bill to stop, put down the heavy sack that he was carrying and doff his hat.
'At last,' she mooed, as they drew closer.
'Norma, ma efficient and perpetually well organised chum, what news?' asked Camille.
Norma's bottom lip wibbled.
'I'm afraid it's not looking so good,' she said.
'I am guessing some sort of unexpected but strangely predictable, at this stage in the plot, type incident has occurred? replied Camille.
'I fear so,' said Norma. 'We think Horace may have had a misfortune.'
'Captured????'
'Bertha is trying to find out.'
'Sacre whatsit and other phrases!'
'I was hoping that you might be bringing good news?'
'Non!' replied Camille. 'I wish it were so, but the grotto of ma ancestors 'eld only worthless rubbish.'
'Then why.....' gasped Captain Bill, 'did you get me to drag it all the way up here?'
'I thought maybe I could 'ave a sale,' replied Camille.
'Oh dear,' said Norma. 'I always knew it was a slim chance but I hoped you may have found something useful.'
'Again, sadly, non,' replied Camille. 'Truly I think this is indeed an hour of need but really, I ask you, what use can a giant magnet, an inflatable bouncy castle, a false nose and moustache, an old fishing net, a kite and a tin of red paint be in a situation like this?'
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