Don’t play with a Beefy

Me: Dave’s in the living room looking sad.

Nell: They ate all the trifle.

Me: It was probably Roary’s idea.

Nell: He’s just a cub. David’s face has guilt written all over it.

Me: My poor Big Brave Beautiful Boy.

Nell: There was cream absolutely everywhere.

Me: I expect Dave cleaned it all up.

Nell: I’m not even sure lions are supposed to eat trifle.

Me: We could ask Lionel King.

Nell: Why would we do that?

Me: Because he’s outside the front door.

Nell: What?

Me: He’s looking a bit grumpy.

Nell: He would be. We’ve got his son.

Me: Do you think he knows?

Nell: The Beefies were bound to blab.

Me: Do they even know he’s here?

Nell: Didn’t David tell you about the game?

Me: What game?

Nell: The Catch the Mackerel game.

Me: That sounds slippery but fun.

Nell: Roary loves it. Unfortunately you need Beefies to play.

Me: What are the rules?

Nell: Apparently if you shout ‘Bad Beefy’ they will throw a mackerel at you. It turns out that lion cubs really like mackerel.

Me: I’m surprised Roary had room for trifle.

Nell: There’s always room for trifle.

Me: Should we let Lionel in? He’s getting a bit shouty.

Nell: Shouty?

Me: Yes. He’s shaking his mane and roaring ‘Give me my son!’

Nell: That lion is so theatrical.

Me: Yes. He’s a bit of a Drama King. See what I did there?

Nell: Just show him into the living room and tell him I will join him in a few minutes.

Me: Do you need to freshen up then? Only you look fine to me.

Nell: I need to get Knitwear Wolf and Beauregard. We can’t leave Lionel alone with David for long. Goodness only knows what will happen.

Me: Yes. Sorry.

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