Muggle-Wump is getting fat, there's no two ways about it. Fat fat fat. Perhaps fatherhood and the married life isn't treating him well. He probably considers himself married.
He's a very stupid monkey, he can't count or write or do any impressive acrobatic tricks like the other monkeys from the circus could. He can tumble and fly and stand on his head, but that's pretty much it. It's just for that reason that the circus let me take him when I left. I woud have taken him anyway, he has swallowed my eye the day that they fired me, and I couldn't leave that behind, could I? No.
But, he probably considers himself married because he is a dumb monkey. He lives with a female monkey and their two baby Muggle-Wumps. They've never had a wedding ceremony before in their life. I've known them both since they were born, and never not once has that monkey been married. I don't think monkey's can even get married, especially not stupid one.
He may not be married but he is getting fat. Fat fat fat. Old and fat. He can't do anything any longer. His knees must be getting weaker, and his brain feebler and his eyes weaker. His stomach seems to be working fine though because like I said he's getting fatter by the day. I've put him on a strict diet of lettuce leaves, chunks of potato and water and nothing more. It's become really a hassle to cut up all of those chunks of potato it would probably be easier to just dispose of him all together, but no matter what I say, Mr. Twit, that rickety old root won't let me. He says he's not attached to the thing but I know he is. Mr. Twit seems to have a particular softspot for the Muggle-Wumps. He doesn't beat them hard enough when they don't perform and he feeds them too much. He doesn't make the little ones practice enough, and just last week I saw him slip the female an apple slice.
I'm afraid Mr. Twit is going soft.
No comments:
Post a Comment