~Gensokyo Festival 22~

This isn't a drabble; it's a pastiche of a certain Bernard Cribbins song written from Tojiko's perspective. You have to be strong to move heavy things around, but sometimes strength isn't enough...

~Right Said Miko~

"Right," said Miko, "both of us together. One on each end, steady as we go."

I was skeptical, but I grabbed my end of the altar. On Miko's command we lifted with all our might, but between the statue and fruit bowls it was too heavy to even lift. So we stopped for a cup of tea.

"Right," said Miko, "give a call for Futo."

Up came Futo from the floor below. Since she had feet, she took my place and lifted as hard as she could, but still the altar wouldn't budge. So we stopped for a cup of sake.

Miko had a think. "Let's take off all the handles," she decided, "and the things that hold the candles. And the solid gold plaques, the solid gold filigree, the incense burners, the fruit bowls and the statue."

I was also having a think (about how fierce Miko looked in those tight lavender dungarees; what a perfect body!), but I had the presence of mind to tell her the statue was glued in place.

"Right," said Miko, "we'll have to take the feet off. Then the statue's free to come and go."

"Do you want to be zapped, you idiot? That's an antique!" I snapped.

"All right," whimpered Miko, "take it easy."

So we took everything but the statue off the altar, piled it all up in the corner of the room and had a slice of cake.

"Right," said Miko, "we'll have to take the door out. Make some room to shift the so-and-so."

"Take the door... Off the altar?!"

"No, Tojiko, off the doorframe!"

Futo and I looked for a screwdriver while Miko measured what was fast becoming my least favourite altar. The statue was a tall one; it would be close even if we could move the stupid thing.

Once Futo had unscrewed the door and leaned it against a handy patch of wall, we tried to lift the altar, but it was still too heavy. Futo started crying, so I lent her my handkerchief. Then we polished off the cake.

"Right," said Miko, "we'll have to take the wall down. Teach this building not to mess around."

Me and Futo couldn't believe our ears, but we went along with it, because how could the situation get any more stupid? After a few good thumps with a mallet, we had a hole big enough for three Taoists and an altar.

We still couldn't lift the altar, though, so we had some roast duck and mushroom rice.

"Right," said Miko, "we'll have to break the ceiling. Get some ropes in-"

"Or," Futo piped up, "we could try pushing it!"

"Futo, you're a genius!" I squeaked, embracing my comrade-in-arms. "What can't be lifted can surely be pushed!"

We gathered ourselves behind the altar and gave it the shove of our lives, but it still wouldn't move. It was then that I bent down and noticed it was glued to the floor.

"Right," said Miko, "the floor has to go! No, the building! The whole village! Burn it all to the ground! Do it, Futo! DO IT!"

Futo was aghast. "But people live in the village!"

"Do I care?!" screamed Miko. "Do I look like I'm bothered by the thought of- AUGH!"

Miko fell in a heap. With a sigh of relief I dropped the solid gold plaque I'd bashed her head in with.

"That's the trouble with Miko," I explained while Futo hyperventilated. "She's too hasty."

So Futo and me had another glass of sake, and then we went home.