THE TALE OF THE TENBY SAUSAGE - PART 6

Now, I’m not sure how much you know about them, but the Haggis is one of the rarest creatures that you’ll ever read about (let alone see – or God forbid, eat!) It’s so rare that most folk don’t even think it ever existed – and yet it did and in fact, in some areas, still does!! Rather like the tooth fairy, Santa Claus, the Easter bunny or God – there is much confusion and mystery surrounding its existence – but I intend to set you straight on a number of the misconceptions concerning this curious beastie…

So, no… The Haggis is not just a figment of the Scottish culinary imagination – it was, in fact – a very popular and much hunted beast that once used to roam peacefully across the Highlands – but which, because of it’s popularity, hasn’t been able to do so since the early 1700s. (When I say, popular I mean skins and all – the flesh as a meal, served with Tatties and Neeps and the skins when stitched together made fine gloves for winter.) I won’t go into the exact nature of their breeding problems that led to the drop in their numbers. However, it is strongly believed to be due to the fact that they hated the sound of the bagpipe so very much that they simply willed their own deaths and refused to copulate. Anyway, once they became (almost) extinct, chefs decided that as it was still so popular, a good idea would be to mock up a dish with a similar taste and texture. Rather conveniently, this substitute allowed them to use all the guts and whatnot from the kitchens that they couldn’t have otherwise used. By the beginning of the 20th Century, with so much confusion over the origin of the dish, most folk actually believed that the poor, bagpipe-hating Haggis had never really even existed in the first place.

Of course, the truth of the matter was that the Haggis was never exclusive to Scotland – only found the environment in the Highlands (initially) the most conducive to good living. It is a little known fact that both Queen Elizabeth the 1st and Queen Victoria maintained colonies of Haggi who could swim, take part in outdoor sports and even sing!) However as their habitats and living environment changed many such groups found new homes and travelled South (or even boarded boats to places such as Ireland or even the United States.) Some were smuggled illegally, by tourists – keen to start colonies on off shore areas such as The Isle of Man, The Scilly Isles, The Channel Islands and The Isle of Wight (not to mention some of the quieter parts of Scotland such as Skye – where they had learnt their lesson and deliberately avoided any human or bagpipe contact.) It was these areas – the Islands where they often bred most successfully – but then some of them discovered drugs and pills and stuff in the 60s – lost their libidos and well – that didn’t exactly help keep up the birth rates much either. But even then – some of the more moral colonies continued to breed (within wedlock) – such as on the rarely visited Fairy Islands that our adventurers are currently exploring in this story. Sure, they occasionally have to fight off the odd fairy – but it’s pretty much a safe and balanced place to live. Haggis enjoy crunching on the wings of Fairies should they come close and Fairies aren’t averse to a spot of Haggis if cooked to charcoal. That said, both tend to agree on the benefits of living in separate areas of such Islands…

Back on the Island that early summer afternoon, Shy Yeti stared down at the skins before him and read once again, the message spelt out, which threatened his own existence. “So, it’s Haggis you’re after is it?” Shy called. “Well, you’ll not find the Yeti quite so easy to catch!” he declared boldly. “Just so you know, hunting Haggis is for cowards – they’re slow moving and stupid! About your level McFur!”
“Cowardly and yet financially rewarding! I’ve done rather well so far!” echoed a familiar voice from the trees. “But I really don’t think I’m going to have much trouble bagging you, Shy! You’re going to practically walk into my net – I assure you! I had toyed with the idea of you joining my furry harem – but you’ve caused so much trouble – that both the novelty and the attraction has completely worn off!”

“Thanks!” smiled Shy rather sarcastically. “I must say I’m really so glad to hear you’re over me…”

“Don’t flatter yourself, Yeti! You were only ever a plaything – a trinket! Never anything more! But you’ll sell very nicely as a crate or two of burgers – and that’s the main thing now… There’s always some sicko out there who likes to chew on some really good tough old Yeti meat… Sold to the highest bidder! As for your little sidekick – I think I could make a couple of cheap Cub skin coats from him!”

Shy bit his lip and thought hurriedly. “You’ve caught him then, have you – so my diversion worked!” McFur didn’t reply for some moments. Planting that seed of doubt into his mind had knocked some of Cary’s confidence. “There was no diversion – and yes, I do have him, strung up like a furry Turkey!”
As he finished his sentence the branches of two palm trees parted so that Shy could see through. Sure enough, there was Baz, dazed and unhappy – strung up, more than twenty feet off the ground in a net.

Shy’s watch beeped. Fifteen minutes left...

“Oh! He does look nice up there in his hammock…” said Shy casually – reasoning that the longer he distracted McFur, the less time he would have to catch him and drag whatever Haggis he had caught, back to his boat. “Oh yes… The fear in his face really brings out the colour in his eyes… It’s good!”

“Don’t think you’ll have time to save him, because you won’t!! Don’t think your delaying tactics are going to achieve anything either. I’ve hypnotized some wood ants to carry back the creatures that I’ve caught already – I played the Haggis bagpipe and they all went running – straight into my net! So you see – I bagged a fair few dozen and they’ll all be back at the boat and on their way, by now…”

“Well, how very pleasant for them!” Shy knew he had to keep talking, inching slowly closer to where Baz hung haphazardly from the tree. “So, what about us then? How do you plan to get us out of here?”

“I wouldn’t move any closer if I were you, Yeti!” snapped Cary suddenly. “Unless you want to set off a deadly trap and become impaled on something sharp, sharp and stumpy… Although I intend to kill you eventually I would rather that you reached home alive and fresh before the slaying… Maybe we’ll have dinner first too… What do you say? My shout? JUST MIND YOUR PAWS – MIND THEM!!”

Shy was still shuffling his feet about, trying to get closer and only looked down when McFur really bellowed. One more step would have done it… Across his path was a thin strand of what looked like dental floss that was attached, up in the nearest tree to what looked like a rather deadly, poison tipped bow and arrow. “Thanks!” grinned Shy and then added. “I’ll stay where I am! Oh, might I ask what type of restaurant we’ll be going to – coz I’m partial to almost anything but slow worms and snails! Oh – and Sea Whelk! I come out all blotchy and have to lie down and listen to Barbara Steisand in a darkened room. But anywhere would be good – not MacDonalds though – and none of your pies…”

He was surprised that his rambling hadn’t made Cary cross – he even appeared to enjoy playing along. “What about sausages… Oh, by the way – I thought I should clear up a little question you’re bound to have. The sausages you’ve been asking about – that you ate, were my last batch of Unicorn! So, don’t worry – it wasn’t a Yeti relative! But if you like Unicorn then I heartily recommend Haggis! Have you ever tried the real thing? It’s very tasty and quite an aphrodisiac, don’t you know?” he laughed loudly.

“Oh God… Really! How alarming!” Shy could see Baz sitting upright now, he seemed to be pointing to something – perhaps trying to show exactly where McFur was hiding. “So explain again how you’re going to get us off this island – I take it that you’re awaiting some other form of transport close by?”

“Pelicans!” explained McFur, suddenly at Shy’s side – appearing from under a large Palm leaf. “I’m awaiting a fleet of Pelican bearing a large cage and a comfy sofa to whisk us away from here fast…”

“They might be late!” noted Shy. “You might prefer to make a run for it before we all get stuck!”

“We’ll be fine – they’re due in five minutes…”Cary assured him just as Shy’s watched beeped, again.
“Oh good!” Shy was distracted by the sight of Baz waving his arms as if to suggest that he cause some further diversion. Some commotion or kind of noise. Noise to cover the fact that Baz was escaping perhaps or… “Would you mind if I sung a song, whilst we wait?” he asked. “I fancy a bit of a tune – what about “Love Shack” by The B-52s? I always find that’s a good one to get the pulse racing? What about you? More of Madness fan perhaps? Adam Ant maybe? Bananarama? NOT Wham, surely!?”

“Will you shut up? What’s that noise?” Someone was whistling, a loud and piercing call. It was Baz.

“It’s me…” Shy started to whistle. “Oh yes… It’s me whistling… A little bit of Roger Whittaker – my Auntie Gladis used to be a big fan, bless her blue rinsed fur…” He whistled again. Baz was calling the gulls. “Hey – why don’t you join in? Oh, look Cary? Pelicans!” McFur stopped, having been about to shout again, but finding the prancing, singing, hyperactive Yeti hard to cope with. Looking up to see where his birds were, he saw nothing. Instead, Shy shoved him towards the trip wire. “Time to make a move!” he called, ducking to the ground as poison arrows showered around them. “Take all the Haggis you want – but you won’t take us!” In a few shambling bounds he had made it to the tree where Baz was tied. The rope that held him up was secured at the base of a rather tired looking bamboo. By now, the sky was full of birds, at first they appeared to be attacking Baz, however Shy soon took in that they were actually nibbling at the net – so he hurried to stand beneath the net to break Baz’s fall safely.

“OOOOOOOOH!! YETI!” exclaimed the cub as the net gave way and he found himself dropping – dropping down into Shy Yeti’s paws. “Oh! How heroic, kind Shy! Very good catch! So, where now?”

There was no sign of Cary any more – for he was already heading back to the shore. Up above flew the fleet of Pelicans, but the gulls were trying valiantly to hold them off. “Come on!” cried Shy. “Back to the beach! We can’t let McFur get away with the Haggis – dead or alive…” Shy picked Baz up and sat him on his shoulders. “Stay there will you, I’ll carry you – just mind your head on the branches!”

As they hurried back towards the shore, Shy’s watch beeped. There was now just 5 minutes left!

It was like a sort of surreal vision of Saving Private Ryan – the beach that had been so quiet on their arrival was a scene of full scale war. Pelicans were diving all around them, but seemed to be scared by the wood ants and were squawking indignantly. Seagulls were swooping, but seemed to fancy the wood ants as a snack and the wood ants themselves were scurrying about madly – dropping Haggis left, right and centre. Just arrived on the far side of the beach was a small boatload of pensioners being hastily organised by Mother Moe, whilst pinned down upon the sand by M.G. Loosecock, of all people was Cary McFur. “Thought you might like some help, Mr Yeti! Not sure where all the birds came from, but I’ve got the blighter you showed us from that photo – found him trying to sneak back to his boat! We’ve confiscated his animals and brought the speedboat around for you! That alright?”

Shy and Baz were a trifle taken back. “Thank you… Well, we haven’t got much time now! We really need to get everyone off the Island!” he dropped Baz to the sand. “Hurry Cub! Take the speedboat and I’ll keep McFur busy here! Thanks for your help Major General, couldn’t have done it without you!”

“Ouch!” cried Baz as a Pelican pecked at his head. “What about McFur… We need to get him on the boat too so he can be arrested… OUCH!!!” This time it was one of his gulls. “Bugger off, will you!?”

“I’ve changed my mind…” declared Shy. “Cary’s staying here for good and if I have to stay too, then so be it! There’s no place for someone like McFur back in the real world – he’ll only get out of jail and go back to his filthy ways… GET ON THE BOAT, BAZ! THERE’S NOT LONG LEFT NOW!”

“Listen, Yeti old chap! I’ll stay!” insisted the M.G. “No need to be a hero… I’m an old War dog – I’m happy to stay and face whatever comes! I might get off eventually – but, if not - then it’ll be no loss!”

“GET IN THE BOAT!!” roared Shy, as he picked up the M.G. and his two helpers who had been keeping Cary’s feet pinned down – popping them gently into the speedboat so as not to break any old bones. “THANKYOU EVERYBODY - JUST PLEASE RETURN HOME!! GO NOOOOWWWW!” As he waved his paws he felt a wave of power blistering out from them – a power that sent all the boats and the small yacht bought over by the O.A.P.’s spinning around and off back out to sea.

“Bloody hell!” exclaimed Shy. “Did I do that?” Just then, Shy’s watch beeped. Time had run out.

Over on the mainland there was an explosion that could be heard far across the water where they stood. A fireball shot up from St. Catherine’s Island, but suddenly, all Shy could see was mist! The boats were gone, the birds and ants were gone. There was just him – and McFur. “Oh dear!” gasped Cary, having been slightly winded by the Major General’s over-exertions. “Everyone’s gone and you’re left with me! Do you fancy being my Man Furday?” he teased, trying to get his bearings…

Shy’s paws still throbbed from the power he’d so recently expelled. “I’d rather just eat you than spend any more time with you, Cary!” he scoffed. “But I think I might just choke on the size of your ego!”

Cary’s manner suddenly turned. “YOU’RE TO BLAME FOR ALL OF THIS!” He screeched. “YOU! YOU ARE! WE COULD HAVE ESCAPED ON THOSE BOATS BUT YOU STRANDED US!!”

“Oh really… Don’t be absurd!” Shy snapped indignantly. “After all, it was you who came here to hunt Haggis… We only followed you to make sure it didn’t happen! Those animals are protected – in fact so protected they’ve been declared extinct! I’m sorry – but you’ve only gotten your just deserts!” Shy gave a laugh, mopped his brow and then continued. “Hey, don’t let me keep you! You can always try swimming!” Shy was sweating hard now and not feeling so good, he suddenly realised. “Listen, fella!” he continued, changing the subject. “I’m feeling rather odd! Might be a fever! Are you feeling ok?”

Cary was staring. “You’re on fire!” Sure enough, something in his coat pocket was burning a large hole and giving off large plumes of dark smoke. “What have you got in there? Oh my! Is that turf?” It was too. “The mainland’s trying to claim you back. This place is rejecting you! I’ve left mine in the clearing!” McFur looked as if he was about to pounce on Shy. “GIMME ME YOUR COAT – RIGHT NOW!!” Cary lunged at him, but Shy took a quick step and stuck out a paw to trip him up.

Everything around Shy was looking extremely murky - it was as if he was peering through a mist. “No room at the inn, fella…” he called out. “Only enough space for one in this coat, I’m afraid…”

McFur swiped at him again, but once again, he missed – no – in fact he didn’t actually miss, his hands went right through Shy. “COME BACK!” he screamed. “DON’T LEAVE ME TO THE FAIRIES…”

But by now it was too late. Shy Yeti was lost in a mist and was neither on the island, nor in the sea, not on the mainland. He closed his eyes very tightly and decided not to look around him. At least this was an adventure – it was certainly more interesting than travelling by train, that was for sure.

“Oh hello!” said a voice. “Mr Yeti’s back on dry land – he’s returned to us! Welcome back, old chap!”

“Oh – for all the furry saints!” exclaimed Shy as he sat up and looked around him. He was lying on the tarmac alongside the harbour, with half of Tenby surrounding him. “On second thoughts I’d rather go by train! Anyone got a packet of Murray Mints, I think I’m going to be sick?” Thankfully, he wasn’t.

As he stood up Shy examined the pockets of his coat – which had totally burnt through. Floating in the water below was bright yellow anorak in a similar state – it was McFur’s! The turf placed safely in its pockets had returned without its owner. Cary was presumably still lost out there in the mist – trapped on the Fairy Isle with the Sprites and the wood ants and what remained of the livid, vengeful Haggis…

EPILOGUE

Shy stayed around in Tenby for another couple of days after all this – but was soon getting itchy feet. There was nothing much left of the fort on St Catherine’s Island – the machines having overheated and created a fireball that even melted the windows of THE DENNIS CAFÉ. For 24 hours afterwards, lights danced on the sea in exactly the spot where the Island had been – but by the following morning they were gone. “No sign of Cary then?” asked Baz, once he’d found Shy feasting on Candyfloss near the golf course, at the spot where Shy had first talked with Cary the other day. “Good riddance, I say!”

“Too right… Can’t help but think we’ve not seen the last of him though…”

“People in the town are wondering if they’ve seen the last of you, Shy – you’ve been here all night…”

Shy sighed. He’d not said anything to Baz, but he was concerned about the hovering computers from the fort – how sophisticated they all were. They were gone now, of course – there was nothing left at all – but he couldn’t help but wonder if they weren’t from the same place as the Time Delaying Toothbrush that Danbear had used back in London. They were very powerful for sure – controlling all sorts of Supernatural forces, as they had. But it was too late now to worry about it or prove that there was any connection between the two. “Nice to hear people are missing me!” he smiled as he put away his well-flicked book of local myths. “There were no Corpse Candles, last night! I think that light display will have had something to do with it – but, now those computers are gone maybe that’s it!”

“Weird colours…” commented Baz. “Purrdy though…”

“I was looking at that too…” Shy replied earnestly. “Apparently the colours are relevant – read this…”

“According to ancient tradition, if the light is small and pale blue in colour, the death will be that of a child; however, if it is large and ruddy in colour, an adult in the prime of life will be summoned from this life. In the event that the light is large in size, and either a pale shade of blue or a pure white, then the portent of death is for one who is old and has been ill for some time…”

“Freaky, isn’t it? By the way - they’re right though!” Baz looked confused so Shy explained. “The locals – they’re right that I’m not long for this town! Not in a Corpse Candle sense… God, knows what colour I’d be if I was about to kark it! No – I mean – it’s time I moved on, fella…” Baz frowned but said nothing so Shy added. “Do you want to come with me? Wanna be my sidekick full time?”

Baz looked awkward for a moment. “Hmm. Actually, I thought I might stick around here for the rest of the summer. I’ve come up with a little money spinner that I thought might pay the bills…”

Shy grinned. “Oh yeah? What now? Haven’t they given you a rise for getting rid of McFur, yet?”

“35p!” frowned Baz. “Cheap-skates… But I might be able to recommend myself for a bonus, if I’m lucky – depends how good I think I’ve been… That could get me another Pound!” Shy laughed. Baz grinned before continuing. “Officially, I’m stopping around here just incase the people who paid Cary show up – that Major General fella and Mother Moe are going to make sure nobody gets into Tenby without a passport! Anyway – I need beer money! I’m going to get some masks from the joke store and do guided tours dressed as famous celebrities from the 20th Century!” Baz was keen to see what Shy thought. “What do you think? Sounds good, hey? Guided tours of Tenby by Elvis or Madonna…”

Shy had given no reaction at first, but then he smiled. “You’ve not got the legs for Madonna, Cub…”

“Ok – and if I work the seagull thing in, I’ll get paid by them too. The locals say, if I stay I can choose the best room at whatever hotel I like – free of charge! Cool huh? I’ve really landed on my feet!”

Shy smiled – standing up as he picked up his rucksack. “It’s a fabulous idea, fella – although I’m very sorry to lose you as a sidekick – but I hope we’ll get a chance to work together again at some stage…”

“We will…” grinned Baz. “When I’m Prime Minister – I’ll employ you as my tea lady…”

Shy nodded enthusiastically and laughed out loud. “That…” he sniggered. “Is the best plan I’ve EVER heard in the whole of my furry life! Fancy a Sherbert Dip and a Turbo Shandy, before I go, fella?”

Baz nodded. “Now that’s a pretty purrdy plan, itself!” he agreed. “What a genius you are, Yeti!”
So, with that - off they went – skipping over the cliff tops like two furry Julie Andrews in some cheap production of The Sound Of Music. It was time to move on – but for now – all Shy wanted was a nice pint and something nice and unhealthy to eat with it. Just as long as it wasn’t Haggis!!!

ENJOY A NEW SHY YETI ADVENTURE NEXT WEDNESDAY - 2ND NOVEMBER 2005

SHY YETI AND THE TALE OF THE DIAMOND STUDDED PIE...