Open The Docks An Unearthly Hob

[Donkey]

This was the perfect time of night to go wotsit-fishing. Too late for Fogey patrols to bother with whatever he was doing and just early enough that the late drunkards weren't pestering or other p-words by the water. Wrapped warm in a tweed coat, fez tied to his head to prevent the sea wind blowing it off, Donkey poked around in the jetsam and varied nonsense washing up from the harbour. Sometimes he struck lucky and found something weird floated up from Magh. Other times he found useful materials for current or future projects. One paw gripped a net that helped him snag items, the other a mop to assist in poking them. Perhaps today he might even find a sacred pearl of Harharuthan, call upon their people so that in return they might grant him a replacement derealisation bobble. There were worlds out there calling for his aid, he was sure, and he could not reach them. He would have to make do with being stuck here. Such was his punishment by the ChronoFerrets. Without another bobble, his SARDINE was going nowhere (Spacetime And Relative Dimensions In Nebulous Eras).

Donkey did not let this get him down however. He sang to himself, barefoot in the off-pier sand.

"Fillee foray badee folah taloo taloo taloo
Fillee mabah neclay sesheen taloo taloo taloo!"​

 

[Tizzi Poof]

Land life had proven too much for Tizzi Poof. It was time to strike out, to become a sailor. Tizzi had spent days forming the plan. A barrel lid, sensible enough. It had collected mud and grasses, oils and fur, packed it all together, and built up a thin wall around the edge of the barrel lid. It was seaworthy. Tizzi had climbed in and sat and waited for the sea to come to Tizzi.

High tide came, and they were off.

The flotsam in the Harbour waters created a barrier of some kind that kept Tizzi from going too far out to sea. The little creature sat and glumly stared at the horizon slowly spinning around them. Without sails, without oars, it had no means of choosing a direction to go. And water occasionally splashed in through holes in the daub. And no fish were leaping into its mouth even though it had politely screamed and ranted about how the sea was now the dominion of Tizzi's empire and that the fish owed taxes and gifts of flesh for having such a benevolent ruler who definitely did not do an awkward wee in their water several times.

Also, Tizzi was thirsty. It had learned early on that ocean water was not good drinking water, not like a good pothole puddle in the Slups. It lacked nutrients, and was saltier than a fishstick.

Tizzi no longer wanted to be a sailor. It sat forlornly in its little makeshift coracle, waiting for high tide to return it home. As darkness came, It closed its eyes and slept...

---

"...taloo, taloo, taloo..."

It was night. Tizzi sat up, peering over the edge of its leaking mud wall. The shore was close. There was a ferret.

"!" called Tizzi.

It's little throat felt hoarse and wretched, so it ate a bit more of the mud wall and tried again.

"Hrk! Tizzi... Tizzi rescue...!"

 

[Donkey]

Donkey looked up from his ministrations to see… a very small sea demon. It was slowly spinning on a muddy disc and floating parallel to the shore. It was one of the most beautiful things he had ever seen.

No sooner had he heard the word ‘rescue’, he had thrown the net and mop to one side and sprung into the water.

“I’m coming! Hold on!”

When he drew up close, his paws squelched into the rim of debris to gain purchase on the weird lid-vessel.

“Hello!” he said cheerily. “I’m the Doctor!” He briefly glanced at the muck his paws were in. “Eugh!”

And then he grinned up at Tizzi once more.​

 

[Tizzi Poof]

Tizzi stared at the ferret. The ferret stared at Tizzi, smiling.

If one knew Tizzi Poof, one might expect the word "Doctor" to set off some alarm in the oozy wedge-shaped part of its body that might be called a head; one might expect Tizzi Poof to bite, or scratch, or rip off an ear as a trophy, while screaming violently about how doctors are evil and not worthy of basking in Tizzi Poof's glorious presence.

If one knew Tizzi Poof slightly better, as we are all about to, then one would certainly know that the closest thing to a medical treatment or professional the little savage creature had ever encountered had been a snoutful of coagulating powder. The word "Doctor" carried no weight whatsoever in Tizzi Poof's vocabulary.

"Okay," it said, its voice thin and scratchy. "Am Tizzi Poof."

It thumped its chest with a fisted paw, then saluted, and then leapt onto the ferret's head, kicking a plume of muddy seawater into the air with a whirling tail. There was a feeling of safeness atop the ferret's head, yet... a feeling of an adventure about to begin. Something strange, wicked, and wonderful.

"Tizzi no sailor. Tizzi go back to ruling land. You give Tizzi tribute for honor of carry Tizzi." It leaned over the Doctor's head, peering eye to eye with the larger mustelid, its rank stench coiling around it in an almost visible rainbow aura, like an oil slick turned vapor. "Tizzi want drink."

It patted the Doctor's nose, and then gently curled a paw around each short little ferret ear. So soft. It might take one for later.