'And then we were allowed to sit on Norman, open brackets, I luffs him, close brackets, and he took us on a magical journey over a big blue wobbly wet ocean....and I didn't fall in!'
'You must have been sitting very still?' Cyril suggested.
Annie herded close by to Cyril so that she could whisper in his ear.
'I did a dance at the end but Norman held me on with his trunk.'
'Teamwork!' Cyril replied. 'We couldn't manage without it.'
'And now I'm having an imaginary conversation with my chum, Viscount Cyril of Wheresthebuffetshire, open brackets, I luffs him as well, close brackets.'
'And what's he doing?'
'He appears to be dressing up.'
'Good for him! Who doesn't like dressing up?'
'A person suffering from clothesaphobia?' Annie replied.
'I doubt that Cyril suffers from that,' Cyril said.
'Do you know him?'
'Very well,' Cyril replied. 'I've long been an admirer.'
'Me too!' Annie mooed. 'Life is always more excitingabubble when there is a Cyril involved.'
'I think you could well be correct and I have it on good authority that he will be requiring your assistance in the very near future.'
'YIPPEE!!!!!!' Annie shouted. '......................................................Are we there yet?'
And Cyril assured her that they soon would be.
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