The Horatio Horseblanket Chronicles (Volume Two): Chapter Eighteen: Return to the Year Blob

Welcome to the eighteenth extract from THHC2. I like this one. If you do too, and want to know how it ends, all you have to do is e-mail me on tooty.nolan@hotmail.co.uk, and I’ll e-mail you the whole chapter free. Of course the book is available as a download or a paperback at Lulu. Click the story itself for a look-see.

185        Chapter Eighteen: Return to the Year Blob

At first Molly had been appalled that Horatio had given up the long-held family belief in atheism: She still wasn’t sure that he’d truly recanted: Not deep down inside. And she felt certain that it was just a matter of time before his new-found faith would be sorely tested…

***

The weather remained harsh throughout the land of Hamster Britain, despite the fact that several weeks had passed since mid-winter.

In the Boys dormitory of Saint Dunces, Horatio and several of his fellow pupils huddled before a smoking wood-burner – their fingers numb, their teeth chattering, and their testicles pulled in so tightly to their abdomens that spoke in silly, squeaky voices.
“I say,” Lewd Junior forced his recalcitrant lips to utter forth sounds, “I find this chill air most tedious. Does anyone have any idea when the weather will finally break?”

Horatio, like the others present, had no idea: Neither did he have the will to respond: He wanted to have a wee, but feared that ice crystals had already formed inside his bladder; and he didn’t want to visit the hospital with a bleeding urethra.

***

In the Girls dormitory things were no better. Lys Dexia trembled so violently that she feared her incisors would fall out, and her other parts would solidify. She began to whimper – an act that soon brought out the grizzles secreted within the other female hamsters as they too huddled around a stove that gave off so little heat that the spiders up in the rafters thought they’d been placed in cryogenic chambers, and, suspecting that a long inter-planetary voyage stretched out before them, had gone into suspended animation.

“We need more body heat.” Opined Gladys Spatula, a particularly big hamster with torn ears and missing teeth – gained in her days as a trainee newt wrestler, “Where are we going to get it?”

Each girl then applied lip balm for several minutes in an attempt to discover inspiration. Eventually Lys found what she sought…
“If we all cuddled each other, we could all share the warmth of each other’s bodies.” She said, though with a degree of doubt in her tone.

There was no doubt in the tone of Gladys. She fairly spat out her contempt for the idea. “What?” She bellowed in a most un-ladylike voice, “And be accused of lesbianism? Never! I would sooner die – horribly – in my sleep!”

***

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Meanwhile Lewd Junior was responding in much the same way to Horatio’s identical suggestion.
Horatio’s best pal in class – Algy Piecrust – shouted, “But surely being accused unfairly of hamster-sexualism is better than freezing to death!”
This inspired Horatio further…
“Wait a minute: We don’t have to cuddle each other:” He cried out with glee in his voice, “We can cuddle the girls!”

Now this went down much better than his previous suggestion; and everyone voted in the affirmative with outstretched arms.

***

In the Girls dorm Lys had replicated this idea.
“Ah,” Gladys placed a metaphorical arm around Lys’ shoulders, “but what if the situation were to get out of paw? What if we succumb to our most base and depraved instincts?”

Now there wasn’t a hamster present who knew a base instinct from a rhythm guitar; and depravity could only be the opposite of gravity: But something in Gladys’ tone told them that it must be serious.
“Yes.” They all agreed, “Base instincts can be right buggers at times.”

Gladys, being slightly older, slightly more worldly-wise, and slightly less dozy, realized that they’d failed to comprehend her meaning – by quite some distance.
“Non-reproductive sexual intercourse!” She shouted at them impatiently, which made them all jump. “It’s banned in school.”
She continued, “If the boys start cuddling us, then one thing will lead to another: Paws will find themselves embedded in places they shouldn’t be; and before long we’re all jumping about the place performing non-reproductive exchanges of bodily fluids. Then we’d really be up shit creek – coz it’s destructive, demeaning, and according to school rules it’s not allowed!”
“But it’d keep us warm.” The class buffoon, Enid Mudbath, argued.
“No it wouldn’t,” argued Gladys in turn, “coz we’d be thrown out on the streets by the Dean. He can’t abide under-age non-reproductive sexual intercourse. You know what he’s like.”
“What?” another hamster, by the name of Tweedie Puddledip, sounded confused, “Not even under a rhubarb tree? I thought that was the legal right of any adolescent, irrespective of gender or intellect.”

***

“Ah,” cried out Lewd Junior in the Boys dorm, who was responding to the self-same argument postulated by Algy Piecrust, “but we don’t have a rhubarb tree – do we! So it’s no sex malarkey – do you understand? Any more ideas?””
“Well okay,” the young hamster acquiesced, but remained very much upon the same subject “but, I s’pose we could always keep certain parts of us warm by thinking about it.”
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This brought out an agreeable chuckle from everyone – except Horatio.
He stood up – such concern stretched so tightly across every feature of his young, orange, face, that he looked as though he’d been caught in a wind tunnel. “By The Saint of All Hamsters:” He blurted, “The girls: They don’t have willies to keep them warm: They’ll freeze to death!”

Consternation bounced off every wall within the Boys dorm. Fearful cries abounded. Pained exclamations filled the air. Retching and gagging were commonplace.

***

The same could be said of the Girls dorm also. Because as this terrifying realization had struck Horatio, so too had it struck Lys.
“Willeries.Willeries.” Enid had hiccupped nervously, and so mispronounced the object of her greatest desire, “We must have willeries!”

Gladys was torn dreadfully; but she stuck to her guns. “If we see one willy in this dorm – we’ll be done for. No – instead let’s cuddle together and pray to The Saint of All Hamsters that we don’t have instincts even more base than the ones I mentioned earlier. Come on girls: Don’t be bashful: Group hug.”

***

In the Boys dorm events had been mirrored pretty much exactly, and Horatio now found himself pressed rather disconcertingly close to Lewd Junior.
“Don’t go getting any ideas, Horseblanket,” He was warned, “I’ve heard all about your knackers; and I’m telling you now; I don’t want to feel anything wriggling. Is that clear?”

At this point the close proximity of hamsters, and all the talk of sexual intercourse, and their abstinence thereof, the situation became too much for Horatio to bear, and so he excused himself, and ran from the room with silent grace.

***

Once outside he immediately encountered the dean, Ruggy Toadfellow, and the school nurse, Honey Bucket, as they made their way along the corridor toward, what could only be the stationery store. It was late, and Horatio couldn’t think of one good reason why either of them should be searching out envelopes at this time of night.

There were some social skills that Horatio was yet to master completely: The abrupt verbalization of his thoughts was one of them…
“What are you two up to?” He enquired, stepping before them and thwarting their forward progress.
For a moment Ruggy was flustered, “Why, isn’t it obvious, young fellow me lad?” He blustered.
To Horatio nothing was obvious; certainly not the actions of his buck-toothed

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overseers. He wished that he could have responded with a witty quip: Instead he said, “No.” with a quizzical, and perhaps insolent, lilt.
Then he noticed that Honey carried a huge basket of pies and bottles of lemonade.
“What are they for? Are you gonna have a party?” He asked.

Ruggy realized, even if Horatio didn’t, that his plan had all the opacity of The Great Hall’s stained glass window. So, with a deep sigh, he said…
“I’ve just come off the phone with the weather hamsters. These inclement conditions are bound to stick around for at least another month. By then we’ll be in a mini ice age, and millions will die. Honey and I have decided to sit it out in the stationery store, then attempt to rebuild the population of Hamster Britain by combining our DNA in the most natural manner we could think of…”

For a moment Horatio stood in absolute silence. He was not stunned. He wasn’t even frightened. He was simply in awe of Honey Bucket: He’d seen Ruggy in the showers entirely by accident one summer’s evening, so he knew what she was in for. He sent up a quick, silent prayer to the Saint of All Hamsters for her physical well-being and the elasticity of certain parts.
“Well good luck.” he said, trying to smile, but instead grimacing so badly that Honey had second thoughts about surviving, and almost opted for euthanasia then and there, “But what are the rest of us to do? We can’t go outside – for fear of frostbite and resentment from some of the poorer villagers who have neither a roof over their head, nor a pot to piss in. Also the doors to the kitchen are locked.”

Ruggy had to make a quick decision. He looked down at the vast quantity of pies, made a quick calculation, multiplied it by two, and said, “Here you are,” and handed Horatio the keys to the kitchen.
Then, as he and Honey scurried away into the staccato shadows thrown by the single, stuttering oil lamp, he added, “Find the prettiest girl who’ll have you, and finagle yourself a warm hideaway. From now on it’s every hamster for himself.”