Junior Earplug Adventures: The Masters of Scroton (Part Four)

Meanwhile, back on Earth, a female earplug, whose was known to all and sundry as Cuckoo Slazenger, had just been fired from her job, and now stood and wondered what the heck she was going to do with the rest of her life…

Her smile was grim as she stared into space, her brain in ‘idle’. Discarded by her employers and cast into an unexpected situation Cuckoo was at a loss. Life had not prepared her for this. She had to confess to herself that she was not coping well.

“Damn and blast!” She roared angrily…

…at an indifferent and uncaring sky. “I’ve only been out of work for five minutes, and already I’m bored witless and without a clue! What I need is inspiration.”

It was at this precise moment that she heard a message on her answer phone:

“Hello,” a voice that had recently grown familiar to the inhabitants of the Museum of Future Technology spoke from the small, rather tinny grille, “how ya doing, Cuckoo? This is your cousin, Throgennis. That’s Throgennis Frote, by the way, just in case you’d forgotten me.”

Cuckoo was stunned…

…she hadn’t heard from her cousin since he’d stolen a packet of gobstoppers from the back of her huge green gym knickers when they were in junior school together. But she didn’t have the luxury of time to remain stunned: Throggenis’ message continued:

“I’ve just rented a cafeteria in the Museum of Future Technology. Its been completely gutted, and I’d like you to come design and fit the place out. You are an interior designer still, I take it? Well then afterwards, if you want to, you can stay on as a waitress. I’ve turned over a new leaf, so to speak: I’m going straight now. I’m earning a proper living. No more cheating and lying and stuff. I’ve even paid the first six month’s rent out of the reward I got for helping to save all of earplugkind at the Galactic Court. How say thee? If you could get back to me with utmost alacrity, Cuckoo, I would be most grateful.”

Cuckoo didn’t quite know how to react…

She was a little concerned about visiting the Museum of Future Technology. She’d heard all sorts of terrifying stories. She wondered if females could thrive there. Then she recalled reading an article about Auntie Doris…


…and how she had prospered with a business that converted amber goo into highly radioactive amber shards, which were then used to power the museum’s defence fighter squadron – which brought her back to her original concerns: why would a museum need a squadron of defence fighters? But in turn this thought was occluded by another:

Throggennis is so handsome – and a hero too. If I’m seen walking out with him, people might think I’m his girlfriend. People will be just soooo jealous. My boss will probably ask me back too.

So, without further ado, she made for the front door of her apartment… 

Next stop: the Museum of Future Technology!

© Paul Trevor Nolan 2017



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