Friday, February 8, 2008

Chapter 4 – The Muffet Diaries

It was the whereabouts of 2 peahen. A ruddy nosed sepia Sun struggled to flood warm light into Never Land, occasionally coughing, occasionally steering into a violent sneeze causing inky blue strokes of darkness. Far away, sitting on a moving cloud, two old druids tsk-ed away apologetically. “That old chap caught the cold again” said a druid, shaking his head. The other nodded to the remark sympathetically.

“May I?” said Pied, leaned over and lit Muffet’s cigarette. He moved back and watched her face. Muffet drew in the smoke, released it and relaxed a bit. Around them, the Bistro was a flurry of activity.

Muffet raised her head and looked Pied in the eye. “I have no clue what happened back in there… and I’m sorry, but I don’t recollect seeing you around here before Mr. Piper.” Muffet took another drag of her cigarette and looked at Pied, squarely.

“Call me Pied. Besides, congratulations, you have just been exempted from obtaining 24 extra credits for your doctorate Miss Muffet.” Pied paused. He smiled and thanked a flouncy-frocked waitress for his coffee. Muffet waited for the waitress to leave the table.

“So Pied, if I get this right, you walk in to Coconut’s office, you refuse to go on, umm, a vacation?? And that actually nails Coconut for some reason, to let me off”. Muffet looked at Pied expectantly.

“That's absolutely right, Miss Muffet.” Pied reclined on his wooden chair and took a generous sip of his coffee.

“So what is this thing, this vacation that you have to go on?” A flicker of interest shone through Muffet’s eyes.

“Oh. Nothing much. The University apparently has some reward programme for students whose work is supposed to be praiseworthy from where they see it and well, garners them attention.” He finished his words carefully, not taking his eyes off her face.

Muffet quickly flashed a smile. “That’s great! So what do you do here?”

Pied leaned forward. “Well. I usually look for opportunities with gorgeous women on sepia noons over cups of coffee.” He winked playfully and reclined on his chair.

“Gah! I kinda saw that coming.” Muffet chuckled softly and put out her cigarette shaking her head. She reached for her coffee. “Let me rephrase that for you then. So what praiseworthy work do you do here that just got you a vacation?”

“I study rats.”

“Oh! You’re a PHD student?”

“You can say that. I also have an MBA in entrepreneurship in tow with the PHD, specializing in business options and models revolving around rats. But that is just an excuse.” He smiled and looked at Muffet.

“Your work sounds very interesting.”

Pied smiled in acknowledgement and let a moment of silence prevail. “So Miss Muffet, do you have plans?”

“Plans for what? I’m busy tonight if that’s what you mean.” Muffet, startled by her unexpectedly defensive retort, looked straight into her coffee cup, consciously averting his gaze .

Pied laughed a hearty laugh. (Strangely, it reminded Muffet of the sun shining warmly on an orange garden.)

“I meant plans for your research paper. So you’re busy tonight?” Pied didn’t take his eyes off Muffet.

She smiled embarrassedly. “You know Pied, I really haven’t thought about it. I spent two years eating, sleeping and breathing spiders. And now that Coconut and his sidekicks publish some silly rule that says I have to write a paper on Never Medicine or Spectacular Brewery to be entitled to my doctorate! So frankly Pied, at the cost of this sounding like a rant, all I can think of right now is a good night’s sleep.”

Muffet sighed. (In the background, the inky blue squirts of night got more frequent.)

“Then write about it.”

Muffet looked at him puzzled.

“Write a paper on sleep. Why not?” Pied shrugged and continued, “Sleep is a physiological process after all. Sleep deprived people and people with sleep-related issues like weird nightmares and sleep walkers sometimes land up in the couch right?” Pied let the suggestion linger, and then said, “So, write about it.”

Muffet laughed amused. “You’re off your rocker and you’re funny.” she took another sip of her coffee.

Pied smiled his bemused smile and continued, “I think it’s a great idea. Besides, at the cost of sounding imposing, I can offer to help… like you can watch me sleep, or I could be your copier, you know, your beck-and-call coffee boy.”

Muffet laughed again and lit another cigarette. “For wanting to be my coffee boy, you don’t even sound that earnest.”

“Oh, I absolutely am Miss Muffet. In fact, at the moment I am not at all pressed on my deliverables. And, for what its worth, till I go on my vacation I could use some drop-dead gorgeous company.”

Muffet shook her head laughing “You've done enough. I’ll think about it. Thanks.”

The sepia Sun couldn’t take it anymore. A violent sneeze that left his nose ruddier and his tepid head reeling, was the last straw. He wrote out a bill board and called in sick. The inky dark blueness filled the sky.

“Hey! I just realized. The Sun’s sick. I guess it’s a night then. I’ll head back to my room. I have a bunch of unsettled spiders waiting to be fed”

“Sure. Let me walk you.”

“Okay” said Muffet and she let him help her with her coat. They got up to head out together.


“You seem quite persuasive.”

“Do I?” said Pied.

Muffet had her hands in her pockets. Around them and for several yards in the vicinity, surprised crickets had gathered to start their nightly show and sleepy June bugs collected around thickets to widen their eyes in curiosity at the pre-emption of night.

“Well, for one the famously stubborn Coconut changed his mind in a split second. That’s a first” Muffet smiled.

“And you’re complaining because?”

Muffet laughed. “I’m certainly not complaining Pied. But seriously, why did you do that”


“Stop fooling around. You barged in and saved the day for me. Why did you do that?” Muffet feigned a look of indignation.

“No big deal Miss. I seriously think the new rule was unfair. Had they told you this before you enrolled, you would’ve rethought your options right?”

Muffet shrugged. “Yeah. That’s true."

She smiled. “So you’re gallant and you’re persuasive.”

“Oh! It was nothing really.” Pied flashed another bemused smile.

Muffet crinkled her nose and tilted her head playfully. “Actually, now when I think of it, I’ve heard and read so much of your persuasiveness. The paparazzi went nuts last year after you played your flute and chased out a town of mice… and you actually repeated that stunt with kids, right?”

“Guilty. But hey! You’re quite famous yourself. How many pretty ladies make it to Page 3 as Mr. Prince’s arm candy?”

Muffet blushed furiously. “Don’t even go there!”

“Ouch! Sorry. How can I make that up to you now?” Pied smiled charmingly.

“Like I said, you've done enough. But I’ll think of something” said Muffet. She smiled and turned to enter the doorway to her dormitory. She stopped and turned. “Maybe sometime you should play me your famous flute?”

“Sure. Whenever you like. Over dinner perhaps?”

“We’ll see. But you owe me one, okay?”

“Well, in fact so do you, right?”

Muffet laughed lightly, a tad embarrassed of having forgotten so soon. “Yeah, I guess we’re even then”. She smiled. “Good night Pied.”

Pied smiled charmingly. “Good Night, Miss Muffet.”

“It’s Marilyn.” Muffet smiled and disappeared into the corridor.


Pied walked into his dormitory whistling. He picked up his flute from his jersey pocket and played a little tune. Suddenly, there was a uniform thud that sounded like several heads banging into several doors. Pied stopped at the queer noise. He looked around. On finding nothing unusual, he shrugged and resumed his little flute number. Yet again, another thud that sounded like several heads banging into several doors resonated across the corridors of the university…

**** (end of chapter four) ****

Monday, December 31, 2007

Chapter 3 - The Muffet Diaries

It was a giant room that resembled a giant passage connecting nowhere to nowhere. The only factors to disturb that illusion were a gigantic mahogany table and chair carved by a rather confused carpenter in a creative outburst; a grandfather clock with a vine and a swinging Chimp clasping it for a pendulum; and a sofa, all three placed in linear parallels.

A small, nervous man walked restlessly back and forth from the sofa to the door. A tall, young and fairly relaxed man sat arms outstretched in the sofa. The Chimp watched the two while rocking back and forth on the vine in complete interest. (Interesting things seldom happened in that room.) Every few minutes, to add to the pensiveness, a wind chime would sound and a female voice would go “The offices of Dr. Coconut…”

“Listen young man…” said the small nervous man in what sounded almost like a wheeze. He cleared his throat loudly “When you came to us from Hamlin with an army of mice and an idea you believed in, this University opened its doors to help you seek the knowledge. Needless to say that your progress has been commendable… in fact outstanding! To express our appreciation, we offer you two weeks paid vacation to Hammock with effect the beginning of next month.” The small man momentarily gloated at his coherent delivery.

Pied smiled.

“So I take it, you and your little brown comrades should be checking into your vacation resort in Hammock next month.” The small man managed another smile.

“Did I give you that impression?” Pied asked in amusement, his lips curling into a sly smile.

“W-well, y-you didn’t?” the small man was rather uneasy now. He resumed his back and forth march to ease the nervousness.

Pied seemed to be thoroughly enjoying the moment. “Uncle Coconut! You’ve spent the whole of the last peahen hard-selling me a vacation. You know, you’ve been rather kind in seeing the potential for my masters degree and bringing me under this University’s umbrella in the first place. And the only way I can ever pay back the kindness is by dedicatedly and successfully completing it. I cannot imagine leaving the campus, least of all for a day’s vacation. Two weeks is far too much charity. I absolutely refuse!” He looked intently at Coconut.

“B-but… we absolutely insist my boy. You deserve it! You must go. Please!” Coconut looked troubled.

“Jee! You’re taking this personally. What’s the catch Uncle Coconut? Maybe you should stop living with the burden of the truth?” Pied smiled his charming smile again.

Coconut sighed. “Alright, Pied. The truth you shall know. Unheard University as you know, is untainted in its reputation as a premiere educational institution in Never Land and I have strived all my life to ensure this. What keeps it untainted is its consistent rankings by the educational authorities. The beginning of next month, a battery of health and educational inspectors replete with their Werewolves and shape-shifting Zephyrs will do their rounds here for a fortnight… God Forbid! Should any of your mice be spotted here by one of them, I dread to imagine the consequences on this University. So... (He paused for a deep breath and looked squarely at Pied) I implore you to take your army of pets and vacation. Period.” The colour had completely drained from Coconut’s face. He sat down beside Pied.

The grandfather clock struck twelve peahen. A dozen Peahens flew out noisily announcing the time and the Chimp stepped out of the vine momentarily to offer himself a good scratch. The door suddenly flew open and Muffet stormed into the room announcing, “Oh Dr. Coconut! I just have to speak to you….Uh-oh! I didn’t realize you had company… Um, but I need to speak to you, pronto. Please?”

Coconut sprang to his feet and moved towards Muffet. “God Lord. Miss Little Bigger Muffet! What in the name of the Lord was that? Did my Secretary not tell you I was in a meeting?” Dr. Coconut kept shaking his head apologetically. “Well. Do be seated Miss Muffet.”.

He turned to Pied, whose amusement only seemed to grow. “Mr. Pied, I’m afraid I’m not done with you yet. I had committed 12 peahen to Miss Muffet, though. Perhaps you may oblige me and do wait at the office by my door. I should hopefully only need a few moments with Miss Muffet here”. Pied smiled in acknowledgement, and got up to leave.

(**The Peahens went back into the clock. The Chimp didn’t follow the Peahens to the vine. Instead he stood staring at them, bitten by a strain of curiosity that seemed to be doing the rounds in the air. **)

“Yes Miss Muffet. So what emergency brings you here like this?”

Muffet recovered herself. “Strange you should ask Dr. Coconut, given you cancelled my PHD!” Muffet tried hard to fight back her anger.

“I merely asked to you obtain 24 extra credits in Never Medicine and Spectacular Brewery. Should you work on that, we would be pleased to award you your degree. Any further questions?”

“Yes Dr. Coconut. Lets start with why?”

“Miss Muffet, have you checked Notification No.10897#/12/Salamander?”


Notification No.10897#/12/Salamander*, issued by the University last week clearly states that a holder of a Doctor-ate from this University, irrespective of their specialization, must be proficient in certain facets of Never Medicine and basic Spectacular Brewery, if that answers your question.” Coconut glowered at her.

Muffet regained herself. “And what may I ask do spiders have to do with Never Medicine? And what justification does my doctorate offer me if I’m doing Never Medicine or goddamned brewery? This is absolutely irrational and discriminatory and ….” She stopped and sighed an exasperated sigh.

“Has it occurred to you Little Bigger Miss Muffet that should you be given your PHD, you would henceforth be known in Never Land as Dr. Muffet?”

“Yes Dr. Coconut.” She looked at him questioningly.

“Well, you would appreciate that as academicians we also bear great social responsibility. The spirit behind Notification No.10897#/12/Salamander is essentially that anyone in Never Land who should be called a doctor and whose credentials trace their roots to this esteemed University should definitely know a thing or two about Never Medicine and Spectacular Brewery. And 24 credits is an appropriate measure for us to accredit a student with his or her doctorate. Period.”

“WHAT? Y-you’re kidding, right?”

“Absolutely not Miss Muffet. That would be entirely inappropriate now.”

“Well! For starters Dr. Coconut, Notification no. whatever is arbitrary, irrational and baseless! I don’t care if you called a PHD a Professorate for heavens sake, but 24 extra credits in irrelevant topics for no rhyme or rational reason, after TWO goddamned years of burning midnight oil is simply preposterous! I’ll SUE the damned University if I have my way…”

“The discussion is closed Miss Muffet. You may leave now. Should you obtain your 24 credits, this University would be pleased to offer you your doctorate. Have a nice day.”

The door barged open. (The Chimps eyes widened.) Pied walked into the room taking long strides. He stopped close enough to smell Muffet’s hair. (For a woman who was thinking spiders 24x7, he thought, her hair did smell pleasantly of candy). He smiled his sly smile. “Dr. Coconut, I’m sorry I overheard that conversation. I know this is none of my business, but in my opinion it seems extremely unfair to my conscience that when one set of students are made to work extremely hard to justify their degrees, other students are offered vacation packages. I am morally obliged to forgo my vacation package in the interest of parity of the student fraternity of our esteemed University.”

Muffet recovered quickly. She looked at Pied, surprised.

“Mr. Pied! You’re overstepping…” Dr. Coconut took a deep breath trying not to look cornered. He cleared his throat. “Mr. Pied, Miss Muffet. As Never Land’s oldest University you must be assured that we exercise great responsibility and diligence in formulating our policies and reward programmes. Any student showing political inclination I assure you is rather wanton.”

Pied knitted his brows together.

Coconut added hurriedly “But Miss Muffet, now that you have raised your issues, I am compelled to reconsider the application of the Notification on present students.”

Muffet looked at Dr. Coconut hopefully. “I’m glad! So I don’t need the unnecessary credits right?”

“I didn’t say that.”

“Dr. Coconut! You just said so.” (Damned old bureaucrat, thought Muffet.) The look of annoyance returned to her face.

“Then my stand stays Dr. Coconut.” Pied looked thoroughly amused.

“Why, you’re as much a troublemaker as your subject of study Mr. Pied. We shall address your political issues later. If you will excuse Miss Muffet and me for now…” Coconut looked uncomfortable. He cleared his throat loudly. “Miss Muffet, what I meant was you don’t have to obtain 24 credits, but it is necessary you submit a dissertation on any one key study area of Never Medicine.”

“Why?” The perplexity did not leave her face.

“Because it is in the interest of the greater good and in consonance with the age old principles of this august institution. Period”

Muffet sighed a resigned sigh. “I guess it’s better than 24 credits Dr. Coconut.”

Pied curled his lips into a sly smile. “I’m glad this institution still believes in being considerate. I gladly accept my reward programme sir.”

“I guess that settles things. Now if you both shall please excuse me. I have other business to attend to.” Dr. Coconut looked relieved.

Dr. Coconut settled into the sofa wearily. Muffet glanced at Pied, let her glance linger on him questioningly for a moment, and then turned to leave the room hurriedly. Pied took long deliberate strides, stopped momentarily by the grandfather clock, picked up the still-startled Chimp and put him on the vine, and continued his long deliberate strides out of the room. Outside the sun shone mildly bringing in that warm fuzzy feel of spring…

*** (end of chapter 3) ***

Footnote Glossary:


*Pronounced as Notification Number 10897 of the 12th part of Salamander

Tuesday, October 9, 2007

Chapter 2 - The Muffet Diaries

It was a fairly unusual night that year of the Salamander. For years from that night, Astronomers and Shutterbugs would swear that never before was such a spectacular marvel that had ever adorned a night sky! Pretty much every pair of lenses and eyes in Never Land peered curiously at the sky to catch a glimpse of the phenomenon. And there it was, for ten whole peahens, against the backdrop of a cloudless blue-black sky, a white incandescent doughnut shaped moonette!!

While Oracles and soothsayers fought hot battles on the ramification of the doughnut, Werewolves complained sheepishly that the doughnut-moonette hampered with their transformations. (Their centers were still human*!) Elsewhere in Never Land Vampires sashayed about sleep walking dreamily.

But two pairs of eyes that night were certainly not on the doughnut-moonette. One pair belonged to Elijah-the-Elf, who had a fairly atypical day at work. He unprecedentedly fell asleep through the course of it! Call it intentional co-incidence; he was a part of the torch-bearer elves that shone torches on the moonette to light it up. No prizes for guessing here, but our man usually did the centre!

Another pair of eyes was buried deeply in a pile of its own misery in Room No#202 of the Unheard University dorm, oblivious to all but a state of mind. Room No#202 was just another dimly lit room in that dorm. It was as big as a room would be, where if three people pranced around randomly, then the incidences of them bumping into each other would be at the average rate of three times per minute. Before the present occupant moved in, the room was intended to be cozy. Post the occupation, it sported a bed that was slept in too precariously to be made-when-not-in-use, and a table that had a line of spider books, spider tapes and spider pictures scattered in careless disarray, garnished here and there with cigarette trimmings for that tell-tale finishing touch. An old ashtray had long-gone exceeded it capacity. Beside the table was a sturdy chair on which a hunched figure of a woman with golden locks sat huddled up, wondering if the statement of her room was in fact the statement of her life.

The noisy air conditioner kept blowing gusts of chilly air in periodic intervals that severely affected the trail of smoke from Muffet’s fire stick. She took another drag from her consumed cigarette and stared long and hard at the spider-junction that her table was. Hiding in her cloud-of-smoke-that-was-periodically-interrupted-by-the-air-conditioner, she faded into her first memory of a spider. She was all of five, sitting tartly on her favourite tuffet, digging into some delicious curd… and it appeared! The hideous adversary with eight hairy legs and such evil evil eyes. She could still taste the acrid fluid in her tongue called fear. And it appeared again and again to taunt her in different forms. In class, when everyone was made to chant 'itsy-bitsy-spider' in sickening unison, and she would tremble with fear as the words spilled out of her mouth. Oh, how bitter was the taste of fear! And those cruel kids, how they would rag her and pick at her. She winced at the memory of fake spiders put into her little Barbie-pink school bag. She closed her eyes to re-live those years of torment.

The tip of her consumed cigarette indicated a halt sign. She snapped out of the moment and re-lit a fresh one to absorb herself in some new smoke. Her thoughts faded into her mother. A pang of pain stabbed through her young heart. She was born to a part-time Witch! No, not the pointy-hat-scarecrow-dressed, flying-on-the-broom Witch, but a growing-younger, green-tea-drinking, black-bead-collecting Witch (that alleged herself to some funny cult called Witca).

Muffet’s first brush with amazement was at age nine, watching Mother Witch through a slit on her bedroom door. Her childish eyes brimmed with wonder as she saw Mother Witch move her beads and all the little creatures in the house pledge allegiance to her. Muffet’s first brush with betrayal followed soon enough. In fact, it was a rude stab of shock to discover through that voyeur slit, that the entomological group of Mother Witch’s devotees included a fan club of spiders! Oh, those betraying hands, those white gentle peach-creamed hands that held her... and the acrid taste of fear came charging back to her, inducing her to hallucinate ever since of those same gentle white hands strangling her! A shudder ran through her spine at the memory and the next cigarette bit the dust. She quickly re-loaded her flash-back arsenal and dragged absently into its crisp nicotine. She sighed!

With a desperate attempt to stay sane and spider free, Muffet had moved to Gremlin after high school, to pursue a Baccalaureate. It was on the night of the graduation party, precisely after three tequila shots, Little Bigger Miss Muffet spotted a spider by the side table. Perched comfortably but staring blankly at her with its tiny slits-called-eyes was a small brown house-spider, with gossamer slivers for legs. A sudden bolt of shock teamed with a sudden-hit-with-some-chemicals-released-from-the-tequila, caused her to readily faint into the ample arms of Prince Charming!

What followed in the weeks to come was a brief but heady dalliance with the Prince – some steamy kisses and some unforgettable rounds at the hot tub to be rather precise. The dalliance was rudely interrupted and abruptly ended when Muffet came to find out that Cinderella, Snow White, Rapunzel, Sleeping Beauty and pretty much every other babe in the Fairie Tails had been in there, done in that. Like in all love stories, he had said she was the only one! Spiders, large black and ugly trampled all over her wounded heart.

When frustration and insomnia almost drove her insane, and two-packs-a-day was far from affordable, Muffet decided to check out the free therapist for students thrice a week. That didn’t work out, so Muffet decided to take her life in her own hands. What kind of a life is it when one is enslaved to one’s spiders? So thinking, she had stomped into the Unheard University, two years ago, bag and baggage, cigarettes et al, to conquer spiders through her Doctorate in Arachnidology. And conquer she did, atleast enough to figure they weren’t that homicidal after all.

And now this letter! What the fug was an “ethical ground” to detain a doctorate? And ask for 24 extra credits in Never Medicine and Spectacular Brewery? What in the dickens does that have to do with SPIDERS? “Coconut”, she said aloud softly, “whatever this is, you better have a good enough reason for this!”

Somewhere in the middle of her thoughts, two little June Bugs had eloped from the garden into her room and right under her bed. For several minutes, forgetting the steamy purpose of their amorous adventure, the little June Bugs, in standard June Bug curiosity, stared with their tiny beady eyes at Muffet. For those several minutes, they observed softly releasing fumes from a deliberating chimney, periodically contorted. Feeling safe to ensure posterity, they decided to head right back under the bed and indulge in some delicious debauchery from meiotic revelries of the night...

** (end of chapter 2)**

Footnote Glossary:

*This sprang some concern on Privacy issues as well.

Friday, October 5, 2007

Chapter 1 - The Muffet Diaries

It was a perfect summer’s day in the year of the Salamander* . The tepid sun with its sepia tints seemed a complete respite to the inhabitants of Never Land. More so, as the previous summer sun, (in the year of the Dodo) rendered a chequered burn-out, tanning the said inhabitants in zebra stripes. The druids and the witches of Never Land weren’t complaining at all that year. Now who would complain of booming business?

Never Land is a blob in the Universe. It is a land that was never, but is, nevertheless. A land that is fuelled by sunlight and imagination. Imagination, more than sunlight, rendering its inhabitants attributes that may come across as mind-bending to other galactic beings. Never Land’s official demographic publications, called Grehems’s Fairie Tails, and Faybles, profile most of its spectacular denizens. Never Land’s most famous tourist sites include Hamlin, Forest/Woods, and Palace etc. Visitors swear that you can never get enough of this place. So many people, so many lives… and its all in your head! That’s the real beauty of Never Land.

Most of the action in this tale is located in the Unheard University** of Never Land, the Mecca of Never wisdom and the on top of the Poison Ivy League. In fact, the Unheard University is so famous that you don’t have to hear about it.

It was a perfect summer’s day in the Unheard University. The sepia sun tints seemed to render the university Bistro a radiant retro look. Peasant women and pixies, dressed in flouncy frocks that seemed to be seamed from curtains, bustled back and forth tending to the patrons perched on their perfect wooden benches. There was something about this year of the Salamander. Perfection seemed to be whistling in the air.

So thought Pied, the Piper boy from Hamlin, who incidentally came a long way from there. They say everybody has a talent. Pied had found his in kids and rats. The former he thought livelier than the latter***. But you can’t make a living out of kids, can you. It’s usually against the law. Kids were usually meant only to be snoopy and get into trouble with Witches and Wolves. So if Pied had to make a living without running the gauntlet with the law, he had to rely on rats. And rats could be relied upon. They even survived sinking ships. And the Unheard University let him combine his MBA in entrepreneurship with a PHD in Rattus Norvegicus.

What a perfect summer’s day, thought Pied. Would have been more perfect if he could’ve hooked up with that fascinating blonde broad sitting across in that wooden bench. Tsk Tsk! If only she weren’t being so distraught and deeply preponderous of her constant smoke rings****, she’d probably have noticed him. She will, in time. Every body did. And thinking wasn’t quite the blonde thing now, was it? What a pity on a p-e-r-f-e-c-t d-a-y…

Rats! Thought Muffet. Was her life fugged++, was this bistro fugged, or was it just her? She sighed a resigned sigh and took another long drag at her consumed cigarette, slowly releasing the curls with a silent vengeance. She stared hard at the letter on the table. It was a crisp cold letter with a non-descript letterhead, suggestive of the Unheard University, with the shaky Dean’s scratchy signature at the end of it. It said:

“Dear Ms. Little Bigger Miss Muffet,

We regret to inform you that for internal reasons of ethical importance, this University refrains from awarding you your Doctorate on Arachnidology until you obtain 24 extra credits in Never Medicine and Spectacular Brewery. All our best wishes in your endeavors.

Should you require any further clarifications on your credit points, I will be available in my office between 12 and 2 peahen*****.

Dr. Coconut,

Dear Dr. Coconut, thought Muffet as she lit another cigarette, I found a stick beside your ass, does it belong to you? Perhaps it does, for there is no other sane reason why you want me obtaining 24 extra credits in Never Medicine and Spectacular Brewery for fug’s sake! Two years of research, flinched Muffet, painfully. Two full years of spiders! What would you know Coconut? And “Ethical Reasons”?? Oh Crap, sighed Muffet, taking another deep drag of the fire stick and softly releasing the fumes like a deliberating chimney. She continued staring at the letter, the sepia sun muting her golden locks…

* (end of chapter one) *

Footnote Glossary:


*In Never Land, years are not numerated. They are named after extinct animal specie.

**The buzz goes that the creator of Unheard University was inspired by the Unseen University for wizards at Ankh Morpork.

***Pied was a true MJ fan!

****A rat wouldn’t do that.
++ Its not a swear word! Really!
fug [fuhg] Pronunciation Key - Show IPA Pronunciation
stale air, esp. the humid, warm, ill-smelling air of a crowded room, kitchen, etc.


*****Time in Never Land is divided into 24 peahens a day where the first 12 peahens get lit by the sun and the next 12 peahens get periodically lit by elves taking turns to shine torches on a satellite moonette.

Monday, October 1, 2007

Telling Tall Tales.. WIP

I'm upto something.. something write... :)

Its WIP.. so I'll leave you with my favourite duo till then... :)

Stay Tuned.. Would love to know what you think.. :)