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BLABBERMOUT’
Commentary
 on June 18, 2013

BLABBERMOUT’ BABSIE: Animal Farm come to Bim

Article by marciadottin 

Dear Nesta,
Yuh could always depen’ ’pon we frien’ Philomena. Dis time, she fine a short story ’mong nuff ole papers in a suitcase in de house she move to lately – mebbee de las’ tenant was a writer – an’, malicious as nusual, she been searchin’.
Dis person got imagination, doh. De story is ’bout a group o’ talkin’ animals livin’ far away in a lan’ once flowin’ wid milk an’ honey that now dryin’ up real fas’ an’ . . . b’leh we start readin’.  
“. . . De soun’ o’ marchin’ boots poundin’ de pavement below, an’ de gloom an’ despondency ’pon de faces o’ de animals sittin’ ’roun’ de table in de room, din leave any doubt dat somet’ing was very wrong in duh worl’.
“Somehow, it din seem to affeck Lennox de mule (nickname, Sleepy Dreams). ’E was gently snorin’ in a corner, smilin’ as ef he was havin’ sweet dreams. Mariner, a heavy-set Labrador, evah nearby, was gazin’ at a worl’ map wid a worried frown.
“Star Boy, a eager, bright German shepherd, fas’ becomin’ a crowd pleaser, was snarlin’ an’ mekkin’ it quite clear dat it was high time fuh all to get up an’ get wukkin’. Glarin’ at Lennox, he let out a long, deep growl an’, turnin’ to Poodle sittin’ nex’ to ’e, exclaim: ‘How de devil he could be sleepin’ at a time like dis? ’E en know we need to get dis lan’ back ’pon track?’
 “Poodle, a vain cocker spaniel wid long, floppy ears, jump quickly to Lennox defence. ‘Lef ’e ’lone, he fag out. You fuhget a’ready all dah hard wuk he had to do when dem animals an’ duh leader from de Norfern Kingdom was tryin’ to conquer we lan’? He deserve de li’l res’.
“‘I shun expeck you to say any diff’rent, doh, after wuh he do fuh you lately!’ Star Boy snap back. ‘Reader, you ’gree wid dat?’ he ax ’e colleague sittin’ opposite.
“Reader was a quiet, studious-lookin’ bear dat never had anyt’ing to say widout firs’ consultin’ notes he always had to han’. Slowly wipin’ ’e readin’ glasses befo’ puttin’ dem on, ’e reply,
‘A-a-h, lemmuh fine de page wid dat answer.’ But jes’ den, de door open wid a bang an’ in rush Outta Pocket, a friendly, chubby-cheek porker, puffin’ an’ gruntin’, sweat pourin’ down ’e fat cheeks.
“‘You see dah crowd out dey?’ He look scared to deaf. ‘A mob-o’-ton o’ animals dress in red, blue, yalluh, all colours, headin’ in we direction!’    Shorty, a dapper-lookin’ li’l chihuahua, never at a loss fuh words, rushed yappin’ to de winder to confirm dis news. ‘Is true.’ ’E voice went to a higher pitch. ‘De Lioness, wid a big stick, leadin’ de pack like she mean bizness.’  
“Outta Pocket was pacin’ de room, t’inkin’ hard. At las’, ’e snap ’e fingers. ‘I got it! After all we doin’ fuh dese so-an’-so’s, duh still want we outta dis house – evahbody seem vex as hell wid we – but why? Anyhow, I got a plan dat cyhan miss.
All animals love a party an’ I gine mek sure de one comin’ up, wid all dah food an’ music an’ t’ing, las’ fuh d-a-a-ays. We got enuff supplies hey to see we t’rough a lifetime, so keep cool. When evaht’ing done, I gine out an’ drop muh bomb, I mean, plan, ’pon duh . . . to . . . to . . . straighten t’ings out – yuh onderstan’. Duh gine still be rockin’ from de music an’ not payin’ tummuch attention. Some o’ dem en too deep, y’know.’
“All de time, outside, de Lioness was poundin’ de door, roarin’: ‘Get out! Get out! Wunna cyhan . . . .’
But Ness, dis story sweet, doh . . . hol’ on . . . I turnin’ de page . . . Cheeze-on! It rip out! Now, we gine never know how it en’!
Tek care o’ yuhself,
Yuh frien’, Babsie.

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