Unsigned Books

A Modern-Day Fairy Tale 

If you were to take the main road out of Notthere – which is right next to Allthere – and you would travel for about a mile or so southbound, you might just notice the dusty road on your lefthand side. This unbeaten track – if you were to take it – would lead you to the small town of Critter Ville. Somewhere halfway down that road one could find the Cat and Mouse pub, named after the two former owners. Sadly enough, they got into a terrible argument. The mouse ate the last sandwich. The cat ate the mouse. The cat choked on it. Both died. The pub was then bought by a frog and a grasshopper who, at the time of these accounts, were still arguing over the name. Needless to say, this would not end well for the both of them. This, however, is not their story. It is the story of a purple badger who went down the dusty road and wanted to make new friends in a new town.  

Fred Worm was having one for the road with his friend Mirna Spider. At the table behind these two companions, some local critters were seated and enjoying their drinks over a friendly game of poker. The weather outside was nasty and nobody really wanted to leave. So, Fred and Mirna were having their third one for the road – a fourth would soon follow –, the dealer was shuffling the deck for the umpteenth time and a soaking wet, purple badger with a knapsack walked in, shook the rain off his smelly fur and looked round. Everybody stopped what they were doing, and stared at this unwelcome guest. Silence, as all were waiting for the first to speak up.

“We don’t want your kind around here,” said the bartender gruffly.  

Encouraged by the bartender, a lonesome giraffe in the back chimed in, “Yeah, go away. You are stinking up the place.” 

The purple badger was a bit taken aback and trembled when he asked, “But what have I ever done to you? Am I not a stranger to this town?” 

Fred, who was a little more outspoken than Mirna, looked over his glasses and answered, “Listen, mister, it is not about what you have done, it is about what you are going to do. We all know the likes of you and the reputation you have. This is not our first encounter with a purple badger, but we sure hope this will be our last. So, it would be best to leave if you knew what was good for you.” 

“Such a cold and heartless welcome for this weary traveller. Pray, what has a purple badger ever done to you that has caused you so much grievance that you will not let me warm up by the fire with a nice hot cuppa?”  

It was the bartender who answered, “No use, mister. If we let you sit by the fire, wallets will go missing, watches will disappear into thin air, and the till will be emptied in the blink of an eye. Even our trash is not safe with your kind. So, please, be so kind as to bugger off.” 

“Friendly lot, you are. If that is the lay of the land, I will, as you say, be so kind as to bugger off. But I shall return. You can bet your bottom dollar.” And with those words, the purple badger left the pub and went to wherever it was where purple badgers went for the night.  

“My wallet’s gone! Stop him!” Yelled Max Skunk making a beeline for the door. It was too late. The purple badger had gone without a trace. With his head drooping like a wilted rose, he walked back and asked, “Bartender, can you put it on my slate?”  

“You don’t have a slate.” Brutus Bear was not known for his friendly disposition. Luckily, Max’s friends all chipped in and the bill was paid.  

The following day, all were there again, sitting in the exact same places as if they had never left the place. Max was melodramatically telling how he had found his wallet lying on the dresser at home. It would not surprise him at all if the purple badger had stolen it and put it there just to spite him. All agreed that it might have gone exactly as Skunk was saying. Another bad hand was dealt, and Max threw his cards down with a heavy sigh.  

More beer was poured into Fred and Mirna’s pitchers, Giraffe in his corner was humming a sad song about a long way home, and the next game of poker was won by Sullivan Dog. Nothing was really troubling them when the door opened and there, in the opening, with his knapsack and a haggard look, the purple badger stood.  

“I am back, as promised. Will you let me have a drink today, I beg of you.”  

The bartender grunted and spoke rather angrily, “Listen, we told you once, your kind is not welcome here. We don’t know how you did it, but you stole Max’s wallet yesterday, and you are lucky we are not calling to coppers and have you arrested right here right now. It is best to leave while you still can, mister.” 

Not saying a word, the purple badger turned round again and left. “My watch is gone!” Yelled Bertrand Mule. “It was on my ankle a minute ago. He must have stolen it!” It was too late. The purple badger had gone without a trace just like the day before. Later that evening William Giraffe found the watch lying on the floor in one of the toilet stalls. This was a great relief to Bertrand as it was an heirloom. All agreed that this, too, was probably one of the purple badger’s tricks. Mirna, though, had her doubts and shook her head in disbelief. Such prejudice in these critters, she thought, unbelievable.  

Lo and behold, the following day, there he was again. Mirna took pity on the purple badger, and begged the bartender and all who were present to let him in and have his drink. After all, he had not done anything wrong. All items that had gone missing had also been found. Most likely in the places where the owners had left them in the first place. Nobody could refuse for Mirna was right. So, the purple badger was allowed a drink at the bar where everyone could keep an eye on him as they still did not trust him.  

As a sign of good will, the purple badger bought a round for everybody, and he raised his pitcher in Mirna’s direction as a sign of thanks for her kindness. She raised hers, and they took a large gulp at the same time. None of the customers knew exactly what caused the lights to flicker but in that split second a wallet was taken, a watch went missing and the till was emptied. This time Max was quick enough and managed to grab hold of one of the corners of the purple badger’s coat as he was trying to make his way out of the window.  

“Why!?” Shouted Mirna at him. 

The purple badger turned his head round as he tore his coat to break free from Max and pushed away with his foot. With one half of his body out of the window and his hands holding on to the sill, he answered, “I am a purple badger, honey, this is what we do. So long, suckers.” and he disappeared into the darkness never to return.