"Who are you?" said the Bun.
Apparently Tangled hadn't been described very well.
Larger than you; and younger than you, the Bun had been told. Not very detailed.
Still, that's hardly an excuse.
assuage hunger.There was a fog. All pervasive.
"What the fog!", said the boys. They said it at irregular intervals for at least five minutes. It stopped being funny after the first utterance. But when has that ever mattered with boys?
The first night, at dinner, Tangled knocked over her glass of water and inundated the table.
The second day, at breakfast, she jostled her glass and got water on her onion uthappam.
The second day, at lunch, she sloshed water all over the table while pouring it for the others.
The second day, at dinner, she tried to put salt in her soup. The lid and half the contents of the shaker fell in instead.
"At least it wasn't the water", said Wabby.
The third day, at breakfast, she jostled the table with her helmet and spilt the tea, the water and the coconut chutney.
"Don't y'all dare say anything", she said.
At every smoke-stop on the ride there, Tangled tripped over her own feet and almost landed on the highway.
She tripped over her own feet again in the underground Shiva temple.
"At least it wasn't the highway", said Wabby.
imbibe. so there."I want a picture of that cockerel", said Tangled. "Look at him, he's magnificent!"
"Did you know that a cock's testicles are below its beak?" said the Bun.
By the side of the road was a tree that was two trees.
"Oh, stop!" said Tangled.
She took pictures while the others honked at the echoes.
"Did you see that?" she asked breathlessly.
No one had.
"Never fear," said Tangled. "Pictures!"
prerogative. and again.The Bun was worried about her hair. "Feel this part", she said.
"Is it Tangled?" asked the Crapper.
Chortle snort.
subterfuge."Watch out for the monkey poop on the balcony," said Tangled. "I stepped in it while photographing the sunrise."
"Aanai-kundi."
(hah, elephant's ass.
no, it's the elephant's ass
hole.
same thing.
err, not really.
well, same area.)
The rest, extrapolated.
pregnant with meaning.
Red Riding Hood returns.
"You won't be wanting the helmet, then?" said the Crapper.
"Probably, but I want something with a hood then", said Tangled.
"Oh, wait," she continued, "This has a hood already."
"Moron of the first order", said the Crapper.
"What?" said Tangled. "I can't hear a word you're saying."
Another rest stop.
"Parts of my body don't like me", said Tangled.
"Well, there's nothing we can do to make them like each other", said the Crapper.
"Oh, they like each other fine. It's
me they don't like."
"TBisms", said the Crapper.
"I'm a late bloomer," said Tangled.
There was a moment of winking and blinking, and the Bun smiled all over her face.
"I'm not saying anything," said the Crapper.
"I confuse", said T.
The first day, the gang was to leave the bachelor terrace-pad at four in the a.m.
The three of them; the Bun, Tangled and the Crapper; retired to the room at half-past eleven.
The T and the Crapper then spent most of the night on the terrace talking. With some methi bread to mix things up a bit.
They slept at three. The Crapper was listening to Linkin Park.
"Umfwff, too loud, stop singing," mumbled T.
At three thirty the alarm went off. Tangled reached over and jolted the Crapper awake by jabbing him in the knee.
"Uhhh", he said.
"Shall we extend", she said.
"Half an hour", he said.
"Four o'clock", she said.
sleep.
number of times phrases related to bowel movements were shared: err.
so there were many. i didn't count.
would have needed more than the fingers on both hands.
The next morning the gang was to leave the hotel room to go to Hampi at seven.
"Wake us up at six for the plock," Tangled was told.
She woke up in darkness and realized it was half past four.
Sigh, she said, and wandered around the room. She sat down and wrote some really bad poetry before deciding to write letters instead.
"I write this sitting across thresholds", she wrote. "Thresholds of bathrooms in new hotels at half-past four in the morning while all others sleep."
She took a break to wake the others up.
"Half an hour," they mumbled. "Seven o'clock," they messaged.
She went out on the balcony and photographed the sunrise. And stepped in the monkey poop, but y'all know that part already.
"The story so far," she wrote.
When room service arrived at seven, she'd only gotten as far as Saturday morning.
"Letters fuel my rambling", she said.
They left Hospet for Hampi at ten.
"Told you so", said the Bun.
Another rest stop.
"Bleh bleh nonsense glah gluck cluck," said Tangled.
"What?" said everyone else.
"Nothing, never mind, it's just- I'm just-"
"You confuse?" smiled the Crapper.
"Huh." sniffed Tangled.
They flew under diamonds in velvet. Brought the tears to Tangled's eyes.
Then again, perhaps that was because of the fly which flew in.
Who can tell?
The Bun and Tangled were talking. Tangled did the Valleyspeak.
"Oh, stop talking like my cousin," said the Bun.
"Where's your cousin from?" asked Tangled.
"Philly", said the Bun.
"My cousin's from Atlanta, and technically she should have that Southern drawl, but she doesn't," said Tangled.
"But Atlanta's up north!" said the Bun.
"Er, no. Atlanta's in Georgia!", said Tangled vehemently. "It's a southern state! Full of rednecks and lynching of niggers! and I am going to shut up now."
"Oh I confused Atlanta with Alaska," said the Bun.
Tangled laughed. So did the Crapper.
"You spilt tea on your pants, and didn't even notice," said the Crapper.
"Half the self-confidence comes from nonchalance," said Tangled.
(All right. She only wishes she said it. What she actually said was, "I just
pretended not to notice." See? The nonchalance line was much better.)
"You should change your nickname from Tangled to Spilt," said Wabby.
The Bun sat down at the table and shuddered, "Why do men like going around stinking of sweat?"
"Who?" said Wabby.
"That guy in there," said the Bun, pointing into the Coffee Day.
"You know," said Tangled, "Maybe it isn't that they
like it. Maybe men just don't realize the extent of their own, er... unpleasant odours."
After a beat, two masculine arms were raised and two armpits discreetly sniffed.
sigh. boys. :)
"Have you seen---? Have you read---? Have you heard---?" said Tangled.
"Tchuh," said Tangled, "why do I even bother."
Tangled bought some Cadbury's Gems. She got four different colours.
"Look!", she said, "I've never gotten all four of different colours before!"
The Crapper got two blue Gems.
"See?" said Tangled, "they're always doubles."
"Maybe they're from Dublin," said the Crapper.
He turned to Wabby and added, "Your blog or mine?"
Huh. Too late.
pedantic.How appropriate.
:)And now, one I didn't take.
(With apologies to the Crapper.
You take one hell of a picture, honey,
but I gave you
more than twenty four hours.
After that it's free-for-all.)"Why, I've done such a lot of insanely funny stuff this trip", said Tangled. "I
must write it out." Out came book and pen. Away flew book into the centre of the highway.
One for the road.
*sigh*
"You're being kidnapped", he'd said.
I wish I'd told him to do it and welcome.
