THE TALE OF THE TENBY SAUSAGE - PART 3

“HHHHEEEEEEEEEEELLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLPPPPPPPPPPPPPPP!”

To be honest, Shy wasn’t sure quite what his first step should be… A number of the sheep were taking a liking to his leg and were huddling up to him for warmth and he had, at least, three bunnies in his coat pocket fighting over who sat in the end which didn’t have a hole in. As for what had just crawled into his socks, Shy didn’t dare to imagine! Thankfully the storm seemed to be past it’s worst, but that didn’t help his muddy progress along the path. He’d have to pass the bulls to make his rescue attempt!

“Aha! I’m glad we’ve had a chance to meet like this…” called Shy bravely, now face to face with his opponents. “Not the most pleasant of days, I must say – miserable, in fact!? Really spoils my fur!” The animals stood their ground. “Listen, I really need a word. Whichever one of you bulls here is the big boss today! I do please request that you step out of my way and allow me to pass! You see, someone’s in dire need of my assistance! You know, it’s all very well for you to stand there looking mean but…”

“HHHHHHHHEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEELLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLPPPPPPPPPPPPPPP!”

Another cry, close by; “I’m trying to get to you, whoever you are!!” bellowed Shy, with rather more panic betrayed in his voice than he’d intended. “But I’ve met some rather belligerent bulls here who won’t let me pass - I’m trying to make some kind of deal with them! It won’t take a minute, promise!”

“MOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!” exclaimed the Chief Bull, which probably meant something like, “How dare you blame us for this – we were here first – go find your own mud!”

“Now, now! I won’t have any of that!” stormed Shy, with a stamp of his paw. “You will let me pass, do you hear me? Do you have no conscience what so ever, you evil moo-ing fiends you!!? A man is in danger? Now – move out of my way, please or I shall order double portions of beef at dinner time…”

All this – and yet the bulls STILL refused to budge!!

Shy could think of no other course of action – talking had done no good at all and he wasn’t going to slip around in the mud any longer, simply to try and avoid the herd, only to be trampled underfoot. So, there was only one course of action left. That said, he had never attempted it on bulls before so he wasn’t convinced that it would work. “You asked for this!” Shy gave them a long, hard Yeti stare.

There was silence.

Well, other than the dripping of rain from the leaves and… then, all of a sudden, a mixture of 16 bulls and cows fell sideways in a dead faint! “Worked then!” Shy sighed. “Wasn’t sure it would – that’s a relief!!” But he still had a person to save! On the other side of the fallen animals he could see a figure clinging to a wooden bridge – waist deep in mud that seemed to drag him deeper and deeper. Between cries for help he was being busily licked on the face by a three mummy cows, unzapped by Shy, who had developed some sort of crush on the man. “Out of the way ladies!!” boomed Shy – and the beasts backed off obediently. “Take my paw!” he called to the muddy fellow and reached out to help. As Shy did so he recognised the lad as McFur’s victim; The cub, Baz. “Are you okay?” he asked worriedly.

Baz appeared to be shaking with fear. “P,p,p,p.please don’t hurt me – p,p,p,p,please – I didn’t mean to set the bird on you!! Please don’t hurt me? Don’t eat me? Please – I didn’t mean to be a such a pain!!”

Shy was rather taken aback by Baz’s reaction before, of course, it occurred to him that he probably looked a bit bedraggled and scary himself. “It’s okay, I’m just Shy Yeti! I’m quite friendly – really!” Baz wasn’t convinced. “I was on your train yesterday, Baz - when that guy tried to sell you dodgy concert tickets! Just take my paw and we can get out of here before this mad bunch have another go!”

“Sorry Mr Shy…” Baz apologised as he allowed Shy to prize him out of his muddy prison – perhaps rapidly realising that it was safer to trust a Yeti than stay, waist deep in mud, being licked by cattle. “I was a bit unsure of you… But I see now that you’re really quite purrdy after all!? You’re alright…”

“I most certainly am, cublet! Now listen - let’s make a move! Would you fancy a wine gum?” Wine gums, warm clothing and a free nosh was what Shy had to offer that night. There aren’t many who’d turn down such an offer and Baz wasn’t going to miss out, he nodded eagerly and took the whole back of sweets. “That’s what I like to see!!” grinned Shy and with that they headed back to Tenby!

*
No more than twenty minutes later they were back in town and feeling a lot better. Baz claimed to have slept on the beach during his first night in town. But tonight was far from dry, in fact it was still drizzly and cold and Shy wasn’t going to allow Baz to repeat those sleeping arrangements. There were no more rooms left at the Kingsbridge, but luckily, Shy was able to arrange a room overlooking the sea at the PIG & PUFFIN INN. He used only a very brief spurt of Yeti Magic on the grey and rather crotchety landlord. They parted company to shower and change and met back later at the Inn for food.

It was here Baz finally spoke up. “I want to apologise about the seagull, by the way…”

“The what?” Shy wasn’t sure what he meant exactly. “The seagull? Which seagull?” he paused. “You don’t mean the ice cream eating one or the one who was after my Wine Gums? Do you know them?”

“They were both mine! I’m afraid…” he confided shamefacedly. “That was me, I’m really sorry…”

“What literally? In a coztume? How did you manage that? You fly very well for a cub…”

“Not actually me in person!” Baz grinned. “But it is my fault and I do owe you an ice cream and all! It’s a knack of mine; in fact it’s sort of my summer job! I’m a fancier!” he added, but Shy was none the wiser, just more confused. “I raise seagulls! Like raising pigeons only coastal and messier! I train them to go for ice creams and then the ice cream sellers pay me ‘coz then they sell more, you see!”

Shy was shocked. “Good grief! I almost wish I’d left you to the bulls now! You cheeky young cub!”

“Aww – don’t be cross Mr Yeti– it’s the only way I know to make more money. I can’t live on what my other job pays me and I haven’t the patience for bar work! I AM really grateful for your help! I’d never have set the gulls on someone as purrdy as you, on purpose!! I just did it randomly… Twice…”

“Oh, stop it! Flattery doesn’t work on me…” Shy paused. “Okay… Say it once more and I’ll forgive you… Actually, save it and I’ll get you to knock up a written declaration later!” he decided. “So, what do you do when you’re not training seagulls to steal ice cream? Don’t tell me – nuclear physicist!?”

Baz paused for a moment before replying. “Not quite… The rest of the time I work undercover…”

Shy had heard it all, now! “Undercover? What? Do you sell umbrellas - extraordinarily large hats?”

“No…” Baz was finding Shy’s attempts at humour a tad waning by now – actually, so was Shy. “I work for the Government but they don’t pay much, which is why I supplement my wage by doing the seagull thing! I can also train dogs to steal kebabs, otters to embezzle and ostriches to wave their tiny wings in a funny manner so that mice can commit acts of pick pocketing, whilst folk aren’t looking!”

“Not much good with cows though, are you?” Baz stuck out his tongue, but didn’t disagree. “So! Which Government Department is it that is so desperate that they feel the need to employ you, cub?”
“The Department of… err… Animal Food Crime… You probably won’t have heard of it – it’s a new one! I’ve not totally decided on the name yet… Might change it! It’s kind of Top Secret, you see!”

“YOU might change it?”

“Yeah. Me… I’m Head of Department!” grinned Baz. “…And don’t look at me like you think I’m too young! I’m 24, thanks! 25 in July! Ray Davies of the Kinks had written most of his best songs by my age! The Beatles were building up to Sgt. Pepper and The Stones had rolled out most of their best albums! So, I’ll take none of your ageist crap, Mr Yeti! I’m not joking you know - this is an official Government department and I’m head of it!” Shy tried to maintain a straight face before Baz hastily added. “However, I freely admit that I only got the job ‘coz my Uncle Timbercub fixed it for me…”

“I knew it would be something like that…” replied Shy calmly. “I just KNEW it…”

“Uncle’s pretty important…” continued Baz and tried not to blush. “Auntie Timbercub nagged him into giving me a job… But I don’t think he really wanted me hanging around his office – so he just gave me free rein to prove myself and about £16 a week expenses to run my own Department…”

“Whatever next!” laughed Shy as they both tucked into pie and chips, as presented by the grumpy land lord thanks to a spot of Yeti Magic. It was well passed Closing Time and the pub was now locked as they sat and chatted alongside their food and a large jug of a cocktails. Baz had ordered it and referred to it as a Turbo Shandy, the recipe for which remained secret between landlord and cub! After a few moments silence, Shy decided to ask his more important question. “Tell me, why are you here, fella?”

At first, Baz Timbercub seemed uncertain, but then, having decided more definitely continued. “Well, initially I got a tip off about a family of squirrels who were in peril, down near Lamphey Palace. They were being stalked by gangs of toddlers whose chav parents were attempting to cook them on a BBQ. Anyway – nothing much came of that until a day or so later I hit the Jackpot! I knew he was in the area somewhere – but then suddenly there was a sighting and he was back - and I was on his tail…”

Shy got there before Baz said any more. “I presume you’re talking about Cary McFur, at this stage?”

Baz seemed surprised Shy knew. “God! How did you know that? You’re not in league, are you?”

“Of course not! I can just tell, from my few brief encounters with him, that he has the makings of an extremely dodgy fellow! I met him for the first time yesterday and then bumped into him again this earlier… I realise the Rock Festival thing’s just a scam – but what’s he up to, exactly? Do you know?”

“Oh yes – most certainly!” Baz replied, as if it was the bane of his life, which maybe it was! “That’s two different questions you’re asking there, Yeti! He’s been guilty of all sorts of things in the past!”

“Sounds like your number one villain then! Do you have many others on your books?”

“Not yet! There’s an old lady in Leighton Buzzard who was caught poking sleeping Turkey’s with a stick – but otherwise, no! Cary McFur, or to use his full name Caruthers Elberto McFur is our Mr Big in this department! He hunts down rare or presumed extinct species to supply to billionaires for food. It’s a little known fact, but a few supposedly extinct species, continue to exist in small numbers in areas away from man – or sometimes in totally inappropriate locations. A flock of Dodo turned up in Milton Keynes back in 2004, but thankfully we arranged for them to be re-housed somewhere safer!”

Shy shook his head, “I’m not that surprised to be honest – I did once meet a Woolly Mammoth… He used to manage a band that a couple Yeti’s I knew were in back in my student days. Nice guy…”

“Really?” Baz was lost for words. “See, some people will pay a lot for Dodo on Rye, toasted Panda baps or Pterodactyl pie!” This surprised even world weary Shy. “Ok! So not Pterotactyl pie to my knowledge, but I knew someone who ate Diplodicus quiche – or at least something like it! People just don’t realise how bad it’s got out there, Shy! It’s evil! So, anyway – now I’ve found Mcfur, I’ve got to stop him once and for all – make my big move! I’ll find out what he’s up to and catch him in the act!”

“He’ll be after something local that he can put into one of his Sausages! Of course – it makes sense!!” Shy interrupted and so with that he began to explain his own reasons for being there in the town.
The previously stern, now rather bewitched landlord returned at this point with another jug of Turbo Shandy. He seemed to be wearing his best pyjamas and Shy could swear he’d put on aftershave. Shy thanked him, as the old fellow waved and explained, rather too emphatically that he was retiring to his lonely single bed, before departing with a large smile on his face. “I think he likes you!” Baz grinned.

“Don’t I just know it!? I think I gave him a rather stronger blast of Yeti Magic than I intended…”

“Wedding bells for Yeti!” sniggered the Cub, but Shy raised a finger for him to listen. With the lights low and the Jukebox off, they could now both hear a distant singing coming from somewhere close by. “That’ll be the pensioners doing Karaoke down at the hotel a few streets away! It’s a bit odd actually!”

“Surprise me…” said Shy reluctantly. “For what sinister reasons do they sit up singing all night long?”

“There are lots of pensioners here – they come to relax or to retire and a lot of the hotels do these O.A.P. holiday packages… When I was sleeping outside on the beach last night I could hear them all singing. It wasn’t just that hotel – but pretty much all over town! God knows why! It went on until dawn – thank goodness it gets light early as it’s the summer, but well – it was like they were singing as if their lives depended on it! All sorts of tunes – but singing them to ward something off, almost!”

“You’re right! That IS bizarre!” agreed Shy. For now, the chorus from outside seemed swept away by a change in the breeze and before long their talk returned to sausages. “From what you’ve said so far, Baz – it rather looks as if McFur is for something specific! But what could it be? I’ve already tried every local sausage made here in Tenby, but none were quite like that one I ate back in London…” he handed Baz the wrapper that he’d brought along with him, as he continued, “So, Mcfur arrives here with some ludicrous cover story – all meant to disguise his true motives! But what’s he after exactly?”

Baz frowned. “Well, not me that’s for sure! Cub meat isn’t especially rare – but he might well have his eye on you, Shy… Not just for his bed – but for a pie filling to boot! I’d watch out if I were you…”

Shy was horrified. “Do you really think so?” he tried not to gasp his surprise. “But surely nobody wants to eat Yeti! Anyway – he was heading down here even before he knew I was going to arrive…”

“Could have been a lure, somehow?”suggested Baz, but Shy didn’t dare imagine it. Some kind of grand conspiracy by an old enemy? But he didn’t have many of those, as yet. “Ok, so maybe not! What if he came to track down those bizarre Fairy Islands, you mentioned! Bizarre Fairy Islands are bound to have bizarre fairies on and maybe they’re the sort of thing rich billionaires like to eat in sandwiches! All the same, now he’s found you, he might just figure you’ll do as a nice sideline if the fairies don’t show up… Yeti meat isn’t exactly everyday supermarket fayre! You’ve must be careful!”

Shy felt quite weak. “But Yeti meat isn’t very nice – it’s full of gristle – much too chewy to enjoy!”

“But does HE know that? Or those that employ him – maybe someone out there likes a challenge!”

“Oh, the furry saints!” groaned Shy dismally and they both found themselves staring forlornly at the wrapper – which now clearly confirmed matters. The face on the logo, although a far younger photo, was quite definitely the face of Caruthers Elberto McFur… “I’m a gonna…” Shy whispered. “I’m burgers or sausages or a nice tasty hotpot! Why me, Baz! Why does it always have to happen to me?”

It was a Yeti’s curse he now realised – not only, according to some cubs, to be very “purrdy” – but also, it seemed, to be edible and splendidly appropriate for some rich billionaire’s dinner table!!!

What will happen to Shy Yeti? Might Cary McFur have his sights set on our furry hero for dinner? Can Baz save him from a fate worse than pastry? Find out next Wednesday...