Earplug Adventures: The Lines of Tah-Di-Tah (part 1)

With only 89 photos complied for The Lines of Tah-Di-Tah currently, it is (perhaps) a little early to display the opening episode: but I couldn’t stop myself. And it’s only the prologue, so it gives nothing away. And it sets the scene for what happens in all the pictures that I’m yet to shoot – if you get my drift. This is a departure for me. But what the heck? Enjoy…

Earplug Adventures: The Lines of Tah-Di-Tah

Tooty Nolan

© Paul Trevor Nolan 2021


Yet another fine day swam into view at the Museum of Future Technology…

…and Cushions Smethwyke was already performing her duties atop the Omnipresent Scanner beside her boyfriend and museum co-curator – former bounty hunter Hunting Provost…

As they scanned all of reality for anything that might threaten the museum in any way, Hunting decided to make light conversation.

“That Descartes fellow certainly talked a load of twaddle.” He said. “Yesterday evening, just before the sun set, I was on the garden lounger with one of his books: couldn’t understand a word of it.”

Cushions wasn’t really listening: she had something to tell Hunting, and she didn’t really know how to approach the subject. “Hmmm,” she responded, “nice.”

This caught the stripy earplug’s attention. “Nice?” he queried. “What’s nice about my inability to comprehend some French guy’s philosophical ramblings? If anything, I’d say that the word ‘nasty’ was more appropriate.”

Cushions nerve snapped. “Oh, Hunting,” she wailed, “I have something of vast import to tell you: and I know that, in your heart, you are going to be devastated by it.”

“I doubt it.” Hunting sniffed disdainfully. “Shoot.”

Cushions decided to plunge ahead. “When you were on your sun lounger, Magnuss Earplug and Hair-Trigger Provost stopped by the office.”

Despite his best efforts Hunting failed miserably to hide his emotions. “That little fart?” He responded with a tremulous voice. “What did he want?”

“They’ve set the date for their wedding.” Cushions answered. “They’d come to check if you would be away on museum business as usual the day after tomorrow. They were hoping for a fait accompli: but I told them you’d decided to go next week instead. They were a tad displeased.”

“I hope you told them to go jump in the lake.” Hunting growled. “I know that Hair-Trigger and I divorced long ago, and that I should never have insisted that she become a bounty hunter, and that I’m famous for my female earplug-chasing, and that she grew bored of falling from the back of my mag-lift motorcycle when I pulled massive wheelies along busy roads whilst showing off to all and sundry: but, darn it, she was my wife: I see no reason why she would fall in love with that daft little orangey-pink oik, and then have the temerity to marry him. I mean, it’s not natural is it!”

Cushions sighed. “Actually it is natural.” She said quietly – her task forgotten for the moment. “Entirely natural. In fact it was so natural that I called Rupert Piles and his huge 3D TV camera. The four of us visited the lake, and I shot a short video in which I informed everyone in the museum of the impending nuptials.”

Hunting groaned, before adding: “They weren’t wearing their stupid sombreros, were they? I don’t think I could stand that.”

Cushions failed to answer his question – if it was really a question at all: of course they had worn their sombreros: what else would they wear? Instead she said: “They asked me to recommend a honeymoon location. I suggested the new Age of Stone exhibit: they have a lovely hotel there: it’s called the Castle of Smiles…

Unfortunately, when they visited it there had a been a terrible deluge. Apparently the climate control is acting up, and no one from this era knows how to fix it…

The central courtyard of the castle is entirely flooded. Worse still, when they tried the accommodation area, winter had set in with a vengeance…”

“Good,” Hunting snapped, “serves ‘em right. They deserve it. Well he does anyway. Hope he froze his butt off.”

Cushions decided to ignore Hunting’s venomous outburst. “I was in the arboretum when they came complaining…

…so I suggested they could go to Spain and use their Auntie Doris’s swimming pool – like they did the summer before last, when things went very badly for the museum, and the Earplug Brothers weren’t here to save us…

I think they considered it for a nanosecond. They recalled being quite impressed with the Jacuzzi…

But then they remembered Magnuss’ motion sickness problem…

…and told me to stick the idea in my ear and think of something else. I said I’d get back to them. So, in search of inspiration, I went to the Grand Hall, which was empty and silent…

…where I had a great idea. A truly wondrous idea. A Galaxy-spanning idea. An idea so fabulous that I still can’t believe that it was me who thought of it. So I’ve laid my plans and contacted everyone who needs to be contacted. So, like it or not – Hunting Provost – the show goes on at ten minutes after thirteen o’clock the day after tomorrow.”

© Paul Trevor Nolan 2021

There, that wasn’t too bad at all – wasn’t it?




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