Monday, March the 1st, 2004

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Zoltan & Istvan

“Crikey!” exclaimed Istvan. He had just noticed that a fierce gigantic elephant-like being was thundering towards him, & that he was almost certain to be crushed to death within the next few seconds.

“Have you ever read The Anatomy of Melancholy?” asked his twin brother Zoltan, who was reclining in a hammock safely out of the path of the fierce gigantic elephant-like being. Zoltan was speaking through a shiny red loudhailer.

“Cease taunting me with seventeenth century prose!” cried Istvan, “Is it beyond your puny wits to see that I am about to be flattened by a fierce gigantic elephant-like being?”

“Oh, I wouldn't worry about that,” drawled Zoltan, “It will be stopped in its tracks by the mahout who is at this very moment careering across the verdant greensward bent on intercepting it.”

“Pah!” expostulated Istvan, his terror momentarily submerged beneath contempt for his brother, “Next you will be telling me that you are ignorant of the two salient features of all mahouts: one, they are unhinged, and two, their skills are defunct in this our brave new century.”

The fierce gigantic elephant-like being had meanwhile halved the distance between itself & Istvan, whose now renewed terror rooted him to the spot. That spot, incidentally, lay a yard or two from a chance splash of campions in bloom, their vivid colours a pleasing contrast to the bracken, furze & bindweed run riot o'er the greensward as far as the human eye could see. Zoltan removed his pince-nez, & holding them with strange delicacy in his mighty, hairy fist, he said: “That's as may be, o twin, but I can assure you that this particular mahout is both hinged & funct.”

And he was proved correct, for just then the said mahout leapt astride the fierce gigantic elephant-like being & coaxed it to a halt.