Crumpeton Tales - The Complete Second Series

In the little village of Crumpeton, the sun was shining, the birds were singing and the butter dish was full. Over in Crumpeton Hall, an afternoon spreading to celebrate Countess Eirian Syrup-Crumpet’s birthday was in full swing.

‘That’s it; let me push just a little bit more. There, all your holes are full,’ Karen Chocolate-Crumpet said, with aplomb.

‘Excellent!’ said Headmistress Jill Saucy-Crumpet. ‘I always feel half-dressed unless I’ve been spread really thickly, and I do think this strawberry jam suits me.’

‘Oh, I so agree,’ said her cousin, Stephanie ‘Stiffy’ Saucy-Crumpet. ‘I can’t be doing with this new fashion of spreading thinly. Give it to me thick and sticky every time.’

‘Any news of Lady Layla and Doctor Paul?’ asked Karen Chocolate-Crumpet.

‘I hear they’re having a super-duper time in India, visiting the Peshwari-Naans,’ Headmistress Jill replied. ‘Apparently things have been getting very spicy…’

The scene of satisfied spreading was rudely interrupted as the gossip columnist Marion Bitchy-Crumpet rolled hastily into the room...

‘You’ll never guess who’s coming to visit here tomorrow,’ she said, spitting butter out of her holes excitedly. ‘Why, only Baroness Julia Luxury-Crumpet!’

‘My, my, I say. My, my, my, my, my, my, my, my. My, my, my,’ responded an aghast Countess Eirian Syrup Crumpet. ‘I would never have imagined she would come here, I say, I say, what, what, my, my. She’s too posh to nosh.’

‘She’s coming with her husband, Baron Peter Luxury-Crumpet, and they’ll be accompanied by Prince Mark Swedish-Crumpet and his wife, Princess Hanna Swedish-Crumpet,’ added Marion Bitchy-Crumpet.

‘Oh, my. My, my, my, I say, I say, I say. We must be on our poshest, poshiest behaviour. Bring out the luxury preserves, Butler Olly!’

‘Of course, ma’am. I’ll even prepare the Apricot Chutney and the Spicy Lime Pickle,’ Butler Olly said, rolling determinedly out of the room.

Meanwhile, in the drawing room, Lord Anthony Posh-Crumpet was conversing with Farmer Mark I-Can’t-Believe-It’s-Not-Butter-Crumpet.

‘So, how are the fields today, Farmer Mark?’

‘They still be full of cows and grass, my Lord. I rolled through them only earlier,’ answered Farmer Mark. ‘The butter harvest will be a good ‘un this year, ooh ah.’

‘Excellent,’ said Lord Anthony. ‘Tally ho, pip, pip, pip. But what, pray is that strange smell.’

‘As I said, my Lord, I rolled through the fields earlier, but I need to be payin’ more attention to where I be rollin’…’

Over near the small town of Muffinville, Private John Eggy-Muffin was on guard. But it had been a long day and his sausage was starting to droop…

‘Private, what are you doing?! Stiffen your sausage right now!’ shouted Sergeant Neil Sausage-Muffin.

‘Sorry, Sarge,’ the startled Private said, quickly stiffening his sausage.

‘I’ve heard that there are waffles around and the last thing we want is for them to think our guards have droopy sausages,’ the Sergeant went on.

‘Yes, Sarge.’

‘Good. So you make sure your sausage is on display, and stiff at all times.’

‘Yes, Sarge,’ the Private said, sticking a little more of it out of his crust.

Back at the party, Countess Eirian was concerned…

‘Oh dear, I must brush up on my ‘my, my, mys’, my ‘golly, golly, goshes’ and my ‘pip, pips’.

‘Well perhaps I can help,’ a voice from the door said.

‘Good flippin’ grief, it’s Lady Jane Cheesy-Crumpet!’ exclaimed Stiffy. ‘And she’s stuffed with Salami.’

‘Indeed,’ Lady Jane said. ‘I fail to see why only Muffins can enjoy being stuffed, so I am now promoting the fashion of being spread and stuffed at the same time,’ she added, her cheese bubbling in her holes.

‘Now that is really posh,’ said Headmistress Jill.

‘Right, then, we have no time to waste,’ Lady Jane said, sternly. ‘Let’s get you all well-stuffed.’

Meanwhile, in Muffin Manor, Mayor Miriam Rich-Muffin was enjoying being flattered…

‘Oh, stop it, you are a card, tee-hee, tee-hee, tee-tee-tee, hee-hee-hee,’ she said, to Dodgy Keith Caramel-Waffle.

‘Ah, but it is true, Mayor Miriam,’ Dodgy Keith said, his caramel glistening, ‘you’re without doubt the most well-stuffed Muffin I have ever met.’

‘Teeeeeee-heeeeee, hee-hee-hee-hee-hee-hee,’ gushed Mayor Miriam.

‘But, of course, I must stress that your friend, Dame Julie Sage Derby (neé Chili)-Muffin is equally engaging,’ Dodgy Keith added, with a caramel-holed wink.

‘Tee-ee-ee-ee-ee-ee-ee, heeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee,’ said Dame Julie, her stuffing dribbling out of her crust.

‘Will you require anything else, Mr Caramel-Waffle?’ Cook Linda Veggie-Muffin said, with a scowl. ‘A fresh spreading before you go?’

‘No, thank you. I must away. I have an important business meeting that cannot wait.’

And with that, he gave them a quick rub with his caramel-soaked crust and bade them farewell.

Outside Muffin Manor a familiar voice whispered from around the corner…

‘Is everything prepared?’ Dead-eye Kris Toffee-Waffle said, skulking in the shadows.

‘Oh, yes,’ replied Dodgy Keith. ‘We can put our plan into action tomorrow. They don’t suspect a thing…’

Next time…

Sir Peter Cheesy-Crumpet and Kurt Muffin-Crumpet uncover a remarkable secret.

Wild Jeff Hard-Crumpet and Corporal Mick Crispy-Crumpet have a spread-off.

Mystic Sandra Strumpet-Crumpet gets possessed by peanut butter… again.

Old Mark Grumpy-Crumpet says ‘harumph’ several times, and upsets the Luxury-Crumpets and the Swedish-Crumpets.

…And as Dodgy Keith and Dead-eye Kris enact their plan, will Muffinville ever be the same again…