Thursday, 28 May 2020

Potiron - a work in progress, of a were-pumpkin that is about to blow the Garden to pieces (new episodes will be added weekly, hopefully)

Dear reader, you are about to immerse yourself in a world of cunning cats, cursed pumpkins, dirty politics, and ancient rivalries. It is a nasty sort of fairytale, for grown-ups. Proceed only if you think you can handle this. 


Chapter 0 -- The zero hour

Basil braced himself, as the glowing eyes came closer. From the corner of his eye he noticed some movement of the rats. Behind him he could hear shuffling sounds coming from the shrubbery. He hoped Mad Louie and Mahoganey had run off, yet he doubted that. Mahoganey wasn’t easily scared, much less by a couple of FurBalls. Great Cat Above, he wished these three were just that: FurBalls. They had the overall appearance of cold blooded assassins. The kind Madame Raisin recruited for this kind of ... situation.
    Bring it on, he thought as he drove his claws firmly in the dirt. He curled his lips in a menacing snarl. I am ready.


Chapter 1 -- In which is told how it all began

Savoy was sitting on the wall of rugged rocks and looked down on the Garden. His orange eyes were fixed on the big, shiny and absolute huge pumpkin. The tip of his tail waved back and forth in a hypnotising rhythm, while he tried to ignore the mouse that had emerged from under the woodpile. It was still early but the sun was warm. Behind Savoy the dew still glistened in tiny beads on the grass. There was an itch between his shoulders, that sent uneasy tingles down his skin, making his white-and-orange fur stir violently. That pumpkin was simply too big for its own good. How in Great Cat’s Name did it get this … this enormous? Savoy squinted his eyes. The other three pumpkins were a lot smaller. Savoy knew the big one was called Potiron. And that he was notoriously feared. Even though everyone knew plants had no voice or conscience of their own, Savoy could feel the pressure of dark energy that surrounded the pumpkin. He was way too different from the other three. Bigger. Shinier. Eerier. He could not quite put his paw on it, but Savoy sensed the danger. He couldn’t help but remember, three Summers ago, Timmy the tomato. Timmy had been living proof that ‘something’ was able to take over the soulless state of a plant and thus terrorise the whole Garden. Savoy did not need to look at the wilted beanstalks to learn the effect of the monstrous pumpkin on the Garden. Apparently, the beans had passed rather quickly. Maybe thankfully so. Earlier, the Man had sowed carrots and when they had grown their first four fuzzy leaves, they died a horrible death. Not to mention the forget-me-nots and the tagetes the Woman secretly had planted in between the zucchinis and the peas. One zucchini had been stomped to mush overnight. Again, Savoy thought of Timmy.


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