Best Served First Thing in the Morning
A desecration. That's what it was: a desecration. To meddle with such lovely baked goods; to take away the cream and fill them with toothpaste? To allow an unsuspecting person to eat such a thing? To allow them, taste-buds tingling with expectation, with promise, to take a big bite and chew? To ruin – yes, sir, ruin – such a thing, with tawdry japes and chicanery?
No, sir. This will not stand, sir. This will not stand.
This was war.
Tintin opened the window.
As expected, the alarm went off. Marlinspike was a large house, and the alarm system was extensive. And when it was triggered it was bloody loud. It had to be: it had to be heard all over the extensive house.
Tintin moved along the hall so he could get a better view. There were a tense few seconds, filled only by the ringing of the alarm. Then there were other noises: a muffled shout; a thud as a body struggled out of bed, feet tangled in the blanket; footsteps as someone ran to the door… Tintin watched as the door was wrenched open.
x
The Captain sat up with a shout. He had been dragged from his dreams by the scream of the alarm system. It was loud. Oh, thunder, it was loud! Still blinking as panic set in, he jumped out of bed and tumbled over the draping duvet. He cursed loudly as he hurried to the door and pulled it open.
He vaguely registered Tintin, a huge grin plastered over his face, through the distorted field that stood behind the door. His feet, still moving, propelled him through the doorway as his brain wondered why his vision was so disturbed. Then the cold, slithering thing hit his face.
x
Playing with clingfilm, Tintin decided, was fun.
Author's Note: clingfilm (cellophane) fastened across a doorway, at face level. Easy and fun for all the family.