Fergus Strikes Back

In the blink an me eye, Fergus sprouted.

Never before did this happen. It feels like you are raining. Me feets and arms grew to meet the oncoming Flaming-Os. All the knots in me bark rushed to the tips of my fingers and made little hard fists that knocked the Flaming-Os to pieces. All the cords of bundled roots in me legs stretched and splithered and snithered and tripped the gangly Flaming-Os as they came.

I do not know why this happened, and I do not know why the Plimptons keep such untame beasties. But one thing be an certain: no lavender is worth this trouble, not even Squimmish lavender.

Oh make that two things an certain: I must escape from these no good Plimptons!