‘Dearest Mumm and Dad,
Well here is Amazing news for, I am now Captain!! It has been a very busy and vareid Week all round as, I shall now recount. . .’
And only one thing more . . .
There was a large house in one of the nicer areas of Ankh, with a spacious garden with a children’s tree-house in it and, quite probably, a warm spot by the fire.
And a window, breaking . . .
Gaspode landed on the lawn, and ran like hell towards the fence. Flower-scented bubbles streamed off his coat. He was wearing a ribbon with a bow on it, and carrying in his mouth a bowl labelled MR HUGGY.
He dug his way frantically under the fence and squirmed into the road.
A fresh pile of horse droppings took care of the floral smell, and five minutes of scratching removed the bow.
‘Not a bloody flea left,’ he moaned, dropping the bowl. ‘An’ I had nearly the complete set. Whee-ooo! I’m well out of that. Huh!’
Gaspode brightened up. It was Tuesday. That meant steak-and-suspicious-organs pie at the Thieves’ Guild, and the head cook there was known to be susceptible to a thumping tail and a penetrating stare. And holding an empty bowl in your mouth and looking pathetic was a sure-fire winner, if Gaspode was any judge. It shouldn’t take too long to claw off MR HUGGY.
Perhaps this wasn’t the way it ought to be. But it was the way it was.
On the whole, he reflected, it could have been a lot worse.
The End