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moonlettuceTitle: When the Moon is in the Eighth House
Author: Claire
Fandom: Count Duckula
Rating: PG
Summary: The Latest reincarnation did not run according to plan...
"I'm so very worried about Ducky-Boos," Nanny said, lifting a pan off the shelf next to her. "It's not right for a boy of his age to stay in his room so much. He should be out playin' with friends."
"Or eating them," Igor muttered, grabbing the pan out of Nanny's hands before she could slam it onto the table. They'd already gone through seven that month, and Igor didn't relish the thought of trying to drag an eighth up the road to the castle.
"I think he's awful depressed," she commented, pulling a hanky out of her sling and dabbing at her eyes. "I heard him cryin' out in the night, terrible wailin' an' groanin'. But when I went to comfort him, he just yelled at me to get out."
Igor wasn't surprised. If the Master was depressed, the last thing he'd want is an over-sized hen crashing through the wall.
However, considering what Igor had seen two nights ago when he'd followed the Master back from the kitchen and, purely coincidentally, of course, happened to find himself in one of the castle's secret tunnels and looking into the Master's bedroom through the peep holes behind the portrait of the thirty-seventh Count of Duckula (ah, what a duck. Igor would remember that wonderful night in Prague forever), he very much doubted depression was the reason the Master was staying in his room.
She started crying. "Oh, Mr Igor, what should we do?"
But Igor just stayed silent and made a mental note to speak to the grocer and double the order of carrots.
Author: Claire
Fandom: Count Duckula
Rating: PG
Summary: The Latest reincarnation did not run according to plan...
"I'm so very worried about Ducky-Boos," Nanny said, lifting a pan off the shelf next to her. "It's not right for a boy of his age to stay in his room so much. He should be out playin' with friends."
"Or eating them," Igor muttered, grabbing the pan out of Nanny's hands before she could slam it onto the table. They'd already gone through seven that month, and Igor didn't relish the thought of trying to drag an eighth up the road to the castle.
"I think he's awful depressed," she commented, pulling a hanky out of her sling and dabbing at her eyes. "I heard him cryin' out in the night, terrible wailin' an' groanin'. But when I went to comfort him, he just yelled at me to get out."
Igor wasn't surprised. If the Master was depressed, the last thing he'd want is an over-sized hen crashing through the wall.
However, considering what Igor had seen two nights ago when he'd followed the Master back from the kitchen and, purely coincidentally, of course, happened to find himself in one of the castle's secret tunnels and looking into the Master's bedroom through the peep holes behind the portrait of the thirty-seventh Count of Duckula (ah, what a duck. Igor would remember that wonderful night in Prague forever), he very much doubted depression was the reason the Master was staying in his room.
She started crying. "Oh, Mr Igor, what should we do?"
But Igor just stayed silent and made a mental note to speak to the grocer and double the order of carrots.
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Date: 2008-05-19 03:29 am (UTC)P.S. Love the Dangermouse and Penfolde icon.
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Date: 2008-05-19 09:50 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2008-05-19 07:13 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2008-05-19 09:50 pm (UTC)