For Tanja and Victor
The bell over the door of the café tinkled and Lady Gertrude waddled in, rudely letting the door slam in the face of the badger.
The badger huffed crossly and then, catching sight of some rather fancy little tables on the pavement, decided that he would prefer to sit outside anyway. He was just settling himself down and pretending that he was in Paris, when he noticed an extremely alarming shadow looming towards him.
The badger (whose name was Cecil, just in case you were wondering) cowered in his seat.
Now you must bear in mind that Cecil had lived for some time in the company of Lady Gertrude Gruntblatter and had survived the experience.
He was not a fainthearted badger.
In fact, his acquaintances generally agreed amongst themselves that he was a bold, brave (indeed some might even say a fierce and bad-tempered) badger who gave as good as he got and didn’t stand for being messed about by anyone.
Right at this moment however, he was doing some serious quaking in his boots.
‘G-g-g…’ he managed to stammer, before utter terror overcame him, and he keeled over in a dead faint.
Sinister French-sounding laughter reverberated around the square.
Yes, you have guessed it. It was none other than Jean-Claude Psychochef himself.
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