Toastiefest 2004

Life as the cat of royalty should have been easy and pleasant but for Timmy ‘De-Ja-Vu’ Voo his lazy days were somewhat hampered by the constant feeling that he had done it all before.  Whether he was curled up in front of the fire or stalking mice in the cellar, it felt so familiar that he began to question the point of it all.

He was in the kitchen, drinking milk again, on the Monday morning that his master Prince Lancelot-Subterfuge stood at the door of the castle and bellowed into its cavernous insides:  “This Friday I shall be hosting one of my famous toasted sandwich parties.  And I should like it to be known as Toastiefest 2004!”  Timmy lifted his head from the milk bowl and quietly informed his master:  “But it is 2008.”  Lancelot-Subterfuge thought about this and responded by shouting once again:  “Toastiefest 2004!”  With that he mounted his sea turtle and jetted off on one of his adventures, as he always did on a Monday morning.  He would not return until Friday and Timmy was left to spend another week much the same as any other – quiet and peaceful and full of the boredom of routine. 

He stretched and yawned, then fell asleep dreaming of the toasted sandwich party that would take place on Friday.  There would be thousands upon thousands of sandwiches prepared by the finest chefs on the continent and he would be stroked and tickled and fed titbits by nobles and royals until he was happily bathed in attention and fatly full of food.  He awoke from this dream dreading the party, a carbon copy of the last several hundred that the Prince had put on.

Some years ago Timmy had invented a game to play in his mind and it remained the only way he had of breaking up the repetition of life inside the castle.  It was to this source of endless entertainment that he now turned.  The game worked like this – Timmy would think of an animal.  He would then think of a second animal.  He would then think about the first animal being the size of the second.  A magpie the size of a horse!  Timmy leapt up from the kitchen floor in fright before falling back to the floor and shaking with laughter.  For a few moments he had broken the feeling of endless de ja vu.

Monday, Tuesday, Wednesday and Thursday all passed the same way that they always did and when Friday, utterly predictably, arrived bang on time Timmy sat at the front door and awaited the Prince’s return.  But the Prince did not appear and, later, nor did the chefs or the party guests.  He felt an empty sickness in the pit of his belly, the absence of the de ja vu that he had suffered for so long and the feeling grew and grew as Saturday and Sunday passed with no sign of the Prince.

By Monday he was sick with worry and wandered around the house in circles hoping to find some sign of his master.  Tuesday, Wednesday and Thursday all passed, unrecognisable from weeks past.  Friday arrived again and still Timmy was all alone.  He flopped down onto the kitchen floor once more and realised that there was only one thing he could do.

A cow the size of a frog!

A ladybird the size of a whale!

A chicken the size of a flea!


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