The Great Barberino

Me: Wake up.

Nell: Is he still singing?

Me: No, he’s sitting next to my bed staring at me.

Nell: Ask him what he wants.

Me: I’m a bit scared.

Nell: He probably needs another cuddly toy.

Me: He’s got hundreds of them already. Do you think he’s trying to hypnotise me?

Nell: The Great Barberino isn’t going to waste time on you.

Me: That’s a relief.

Nell: And if he isn’t singing he isn’t hypnotising.

Me: He just sighed and left.

Nell: There you are then.

Me: I think I might have been a disappointment.

Nell: Never mind.

Me: I’ll tell you who isn’t a disappointment.

Nell: Who?

Me: The stuffed tiger.

Nell: Yes, he loves Beaumarchais.

Me: I think he’d do anything for that tiger.

Nell: As long as he performs at the Mayoral Concert later all will be well.

Me: It feels like he’s been practising for hours.

Nell: That wasn’t practising.

Me: He can certainly sing quite high.

Nell: He’s a tenor.

Me: He sounded more like a soprano to me.

Nell: The Great Barberino has a wide range.

Me: Has he met the Welsh Corgi Choir yet?

Nell: Yes, they had strawberries and cream with him at The Cat’s yesterday afternoon.

Me: Why wasn’t I invited? I love strawberries and cream.

Nell: You are neither a corgi nor a singer.

Me: Are we expecting a lot of visitors?

Nell: Yes. Word has spread that The Great Barberino is performing and it’s not something anyone wants to miss.

Me: Do you think the Beefies are going to try and attack?

Nell: We’re expecting Sven Gully to be lurking somewhere but don’t worry.

Me: Because we have our hats and sunglasses?

Nell: No, we have The Great Barberino. Nothing will get past him.

Me: Of course. Sorry.

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