The Adventures of Thomas the Momas ep. 2

“Un-be-lie-vable!” He exclaimed, stressing every syllable of the word. That was usually his manner of speaking when excited or annoyed.
Not having noticed Thomas when he entered, he shrugged off his frown momentarily to quickly dispense with the amenities.
“Morning Tom.”
“Morning your lordhip.” Tom was being sarcastic of course, being considered as part of the family there was no need for him to be so formal. The Lord answered with a hard look, and then turned to the Mrs.
“Nearly starved to death was he my dear?” He said quickly, raising an eyebrow at Tom.
“Yes my love.”
“Saved by good scent cloud was he?”
“Yes my love.”
“Hmph, not sure where to eat I bet? Indecisiveness will most likely be the end of the boy.”
“Most likely.”
With an air of mock victory, Lord Muffin-Top joined the other two and the table and readied himself for breakfast.
“Your Lordship.” Thomas continued, not conceding defeat. “You were saying?” Paying no attention, his lordship went on with the story.
“Ah yes, ahm, as I was saying…Un-be-lie-vable!”

“There I was.” The lord was very gestural in his manner of speaking especially when anecdotal. It was as though he re-enacted whatever tale he told.
“On the hunting grounds, the…the…uh.”
“Huntington.” Mrs. Muffin-Top quickly and delicately added.”
“Thank you dearest, the Hun-ting-ton hunting grounds. Ready to hunt bear.” Whenever Mr. Muffin-Top would speak of an animal he always mimicked its most distinctive physical attribute. For example, for a deer or moose he make antlers of his hands atop his head, in this instance he made his arms wide to show the bear’s corpulence making claws with his hands and a scary growl face. And no matter how many times he would allude to the animal he would pause for the mimickery. Thomas loved this about him, and always found himself more enthralled in the story as a result. “So there we were the chaps and I, walking the woods, stalking the grounds, trying not to make a sound. When all of a sudden, we found a magnificent beast, a bear no less than fifteen feet tall if he was a foot. I called the boys over for them to see, and told them, this one was mine. I lined my tranquilizer rifle, ready to put him to sleep so that he may be dealt with in a most humane way.
“Most humane my love.” The Mrs. Added
Mr. Muffin-Top’s face was already red, and he was almost short of breath from the exertion of flailing his arms to re-enact the walking, pretending to sneak around to re-enact the stalking and clutching an invisble rifle to re-enact the lining. All of this while speaking, in that particular manner of this.
“So there I was, ready to bring doooooooown the bear, when a most un-be-, no, no that’s not it, when a most, a most.” He was now huffing and puffing, so red, so mad, it seemed that soon he would lose his muffin’s top.”
“Grievous my dear.”
“A most grrrrrrrrrrievous transgression on one’s right to hunt good and proper, was commited onto MEEEEEE!” Completely spent from the emotion of this retelling, Mr. Muffin-Top’s captive audience was forced to wait for him to gather himself, drink a little water and then finally, go on.
“That idiot Nigel accidentally fired off his rifle, causing the bear to be alerted to our presence, then to give chase in a raaaaaaaaged frrrrenzy, for what seemed like miles Luckily, we somewhow managed to escape with our hides intact. His lordship, now drew a deep breath filling his starved lungs, collapsing in his chair reeling from the climax of this near tragic story. Thomas was quite exilirated, his face gleaming.
“Well anyway, I was so angered at that poor fool that I could no longer enjoy the hunt, and so here I am. Shall we begin?”
The meal had been quite worth the wait, as it always is in this land. For you see, the true treasure of this place is that no matter how much you eat, you never feel full. And so the only reason you ever stop is simply because you no longer want to eat. But do not be fooled, gluttony is greatly frowned upon, all things must be done in moderation you see. “Tis’ the only way the things that need doing will get done.” As the Mrs. Always puts it. Of course, this does not prevent those who dwell here to eat great amounts food.
What was important was to enjoy every morsel regardless of the quantity, and what signaled the end of the meal was simply a question of having your taste buds satisfied. Meals in themselves thus lasted for hours but there was no gouging of food or stuffing of faces, quiet, delicate seemingly endless savoring of foods. By the time Thomas had left, the hour was well past that of the noon hour but he was quite content save for a bit of soreness in his jaw. He bid the Muffin-Tops farewell and made his was home. Crossing over into his empty castle-like home was at times such a contrast from whatever place he was returning from, that he would feel a little out of place. Now was most definitely one of those times and he had no desire to dwell as he did before in a search for his next door. He knew where he was headed and with quick feet, charged up to the top floor of the house heading for the realm of the crystal mistress. The mistress was a fortune teller, an old woman who crowed and cackled like a witch, frail looking but undoubtedly powerful. Her world unlike all others was caught somewhere between dimensions, it was black all around for what seemed like infinity. The only light was that which surrounded the massive wicker chair in which she sat surrounded by crystals of all shapes and sizes. She cautioned all those who managed to find her never to stray from her parlor for those who could no longer see its light vanished into nothingness.