The History of Tooly
Part 7

"This is never going to hold together, " said Tooly`s ever faithful dogsbody Neshton.
"It`s ok it only has to stay up until it`s lit" Tooly replied.
The sacrificial funeral pyre creaked as the body of Eric Proctor was lowered onto it. "So he was a robot all along eh? " Neshton asked.
"Of course he wasn`t Neshton you little dickhead " Tooly said," it was all part of my plan. I knew Proctor couldn`t handle his ale so I paid that clumpy dumplet in the pub to say that he saw some wires inside Eric`s head. Probably getting drunk with the money as we speak"
Just then a clumpy swigging a bottle of paraffin wobbled by.
"But s-sir" Neshton stammered, "How did you know the top of his head would open up like that? And where did all that smoke come from? And why was Eric Proctor in a pub if he couldn`t drink?"
Tooly tutted and kicked Neshton into a nearby ditch.

The locals had finally managed to hoist Old Fatty Proctor onto the funeral pyre and where busy rubbing sticks together, trying to get it lit. Tooly picked his nose and watched them for a while then walked over, got his lighter out and within seconds the funeral pyre was blazing furiously. The locals gasped in amazement for they where stupid and did not realise there where such easy ways of making fire. "This is going to be simpler than I thought " Tooly muttered under his breath. And he threw a clumpy dumplet onto the fire to celebrate. The crowd cheered. "Sir! Sir!" Neshton gasped as he came running up to Tooly, " That bloody clumpy dumplet you paid off is drunk on paraffin and he`s telling people that Eric Proctor wasn`t really a robot"
"Oh he is, is he? " Tooly said and then ran off into the crowd to find him. Neshton smiled a sneaky smile. As he got closer Tooly could hear the clumpy bragging about how he`d helped rid New Brighton of the evil Eric Proctor and how he was now Toolys favourite person under the height of three feet. Tooly grabbed the clumpy and raised him into the air. The locals stopped cheering and all looked at Tooly in amazement (it was an old superstition in New Brighton that one sacrifice was good but two wasn`t) Tooly looked round at the crowd. Thought about picking his nose but realised he couldn`t, and then hurled the clumpy onto the fire. There was a big bang and some people not relevant to the story were possibly injured. There was stunned silence as Tooly grabbed a stick and walked up to what was left of the funeral pyre. He poked the stick into the fire, very much in the same way as he`d poked the pool cue into Eric`s head in the last chapter, and said in his usual cocky manner. " Robot ".
The crowd began cheering again and some of them began to chanting, "Long live Tooly, the biscuit King is dead!".
The rest of them just dribbled.
Tooly held his stick aloft and the crowd shut up again.
"From this day on the biscuit factory shall be known as Tool and Proctor`s Biscuit Factory for I am to take Mergo Proctor, the late Eric Proctor the evil robot`s daughter, as my wife. Once more the crowd started to cheer, this time with a renewed vigour because if there was one thing they loved more than a sacrifice in New Brighton was a wedding, and a wedding between the most influential families in New Brighton was sure to mean lots of free paraffin and biscuits. Tooly stepped back and picked his nose in triumph.

 

To Be Continued.

 

Burn fatty burn

 

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