The Mission

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Humor  |  House: Booksie Classic
Have you ever wondered how those round, deep potholes appear near the middle of the road, on a bend so you can't possibly miss them? Here's a possible explanation!

Submitted: October 29, 2016

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Submitted: October 29, 2016

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The Mission

 

Shammie and Casper busied themselves making all those little last minute checks. They had been chosen to carry out a very important mission and a lot was riding on its success. Respect – that is what they would be rewarded with, and right now that was worth more than any amount of gold.

 

Have yer got yer pick, Casper?” Shammie asked for the tenth time in two minutes. “We won’t be able ta sort it out if yer have no got yer pick!”

 

Casper moved so that he was standing directly in front of Shammie. He then proceeded to wave the long-handled pick in the air. “Aye, Shammie. I got me pick! Don’t yer go askin’ me again. Have yer got yer cap?”

 

Shammie placed his hands on his head and felt around. “Aye, Casper. Tis on me head! Is you in need of the goggles, Casper, that yer cannot see it there?”

 

With a roll of his eyes Casper said, “Not that cap, yer eejit. The explosive one! The one that is gonna make that hole go nice and deep.”

 

Ah. Why didn’t yer say! Tis here, safe ‘n’ sound in me pocket.” Shammie reached his hand deep down into his coat pocket just to check. You never could be too careful when you’ve been entrusted to carry out a ‘special mission’.

 

Right, now! Lets get us a goin’ then. What’s the important word ta remember, Shammie?” Casper, clearly believing himself in charge, led the way outside.

 

Hang on, Casper. I knows it. Just let me think.......something ta do with seeds, wasn’t it?”

 

Casper rolled his eyes again. If this mission succeeded it would be a miracle – or down to his own cleverness! “Seeds? What’s seeds got ta do with it? SPEED, yer blitherer! Speed and Caution!”

 

Yeah, Casper. Twas what I thought – speed and caution.” Shammie nodded his head wisely. “So, what’re we waiting for!”

 

The perfect spot had been picked out and it wasn’t very far. The two short short gnomes jogged across the field. To any onlookers it would seem as though they bounced. A gnomes jog is not a fast movement at the best of times but Shammie was slowed down by worry. He did not want that cap going off in his pocket because of too much jolting around.

 

The big, dry grey river stretched out in front of them. Casper turned both to his left and to his right, looking for those tell-tale yellow eyes that poured out light ahead of those rapid, racing creatures. No lights, no creatures! The white line separating the two sides of the dry river, some sort of invisible barrier he guessed, was nice and clear to see.

 

Remember, Casper. Jaunt said ta go ta the middle just after the river curves, take four steps back, then fling that pick down right there.” Shammie was delighted with how clearly he remembered those instructions.

 

I knows what I’s ta do, Shammie. Yer just keep a good eye open for those beasts. Remember, they be fast so mind ta give plenty of warning.”

 

Casper hoisted his pick back up on to his shoulder. He ran across the tarmac, stopped just before that barrier and took four backward steps. He raised the pick, ready for the first swing; he tensed his arms ready for the impact.......

 

Casper, quick! There’s a monster approaching and it looks ta be one of those mammoth ones!”

 

Cursing under and over his breath Casper lowered the pick and dashed back to the safety of Shammie’s side. They waited.....and they waited.

 

Well? Where’s it gone ta, Shammie? Casper was hopping mad, being called back for nothing when he was right on the point of making that first strike.

 

It was there! Honest, Casper. Clears as day! It must ha’ gone down that tributary back there.” Shammie looked so disappointed. He’d wanted to impress Casper not make him mad.

 

Shammie, yer eejit. Yer blitherer. Yer blithering eejit! Wait until yer know they’s coming this way.” Casper stomped crossly back to the invisible barrier, took four backward steps and swung his pick hard down on to the tarmac.

 

Ouch,” muttered Shammie. He was all too sure of the picture that was in Casper’s head when he made that swing.

 

Again and again that pick lifted and dropped, lifted and dropped. Casper had just finished making a nice little hole when Shammie called him back again. Panting for breath, Casper watched as the metal monster lurched into the hole with a thoroughly satisfying bump.

 

Now, Shammie, yer go put that cap in the hole. We’ll teach them not to be disturbing our four thousand, four hundred and forty winks! Go on now, and be quick.”

 

Shammie scampered across the river to the hole that Casper had made. He pulled the cap from his head and tried to fit it in. “Won’t fit, Casper. Yer’s not made this hole big enough!”

 

Put that cap on yer head and use what’s inside it fer once,” shouted Casper, exasperated to the point of apoplexy. “Put the ‘explosive cap’ in the hole, light it up then run!” Casper stood still long enough to watch the strike of the match then he took to his heels, bouncing his way back across the field.

 

There was a pop, a bang, but no sign of Shammie. Casper stopped bouncing, turned and looked sadly back. He might have been an eejit but Shammie had been a good friend.

 

And then there he was, bouncing along. A bit singed and dusty, one eye-brow nowhere to be seen and his face the colour of the tarmac that covered it; but he was smiling, laughing, giving the thumbs up.

 

They could hear the sounds of a monster travelling the sea. They stood still and listened. A bump, a crunch of metal and an angry shouted curse was all that was needed to let Casper and Shammie know that their mission had been a complete success. The two friends bounced jubilantly home, ready to receive their hard-earned and well-deserved prize of RESPECT.......whatever that was!


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