Bump

19: UN-FAIR

In which Juggalug's personal space is horribly imposed upon.

#

"Night take you, Juggalug," Harriet said through gritted teeth.

She was weaving through the bustle of tents and stalls, Rupert peeking out from her pocket. The crowd was thick already and she was making slow progress compared to Juggalug, who flew easily above the heads of the throng. At last she caught a glimpse of the banshee, who was making a beeline for a stall with a blue-and-white striped awning. Beneath it, a woman with a red headscarf was handing two sausages on sticks to a waiting customer. The customer in question was a man in a tall felt hat and expensive-looking frock coat. Hanging onto his coat tails was a small girl in a pretty striped dress, her hair tied with a rather ridiculous number of ribbons. As Harriet watched, her father handed her one of the sausages.

Juggalug saw it too. The banshee sped up.

"Juggalug, you come back here!" Harriet yelled, startling a gnarled old man beside her, who almost dropped the basket of toffee apples he was carrying.

Juggalug didn't hear her (deliberately, Harriet suspected), and kept going, his stunted wings flapping with all their might. She was still twenty yards behind when he reached his target.

The little girl looked up as Juggalug approached. Her eyes widened and she pointed an excited finger.

"Aw, look at the little thing, Papa. It's so cute!"

The man looked up at his daughter's cry. He frowned, then inspected Juggalug more closely. "Well, I'm not sure about cute," he said, stroking his moustache, "but he certainly is an interesting little creature..."

Juggalug flew in circles, peeping.

Show off, thought Harriet, still hurrying to catch up.

"Oh, look, it's hungry, Papa. Can I give it my sausage?"

"I bought the sausage for you, sweetheart."

"Half a sausage?"

The man sighed. "A quarter of a sausage."

"Oh, Papa!"

"All right then, my dear. Give it half a sausage if you really must."

Juggalug received the half-sausage happily and proceeded to chomp on it with gusto.

"My, what sharp little teeth it's got," the man commented.

"But it's so cute! Can we keep it, Papa? Pleeease?" She gave her father one of those puppy-dog looks that, as we all know, are a prime method for Twisting Daddy Round Your Little Finger.

Predictably, the girl's tactic worked. Not so predictable was her father's way of carrying out her request.

"Oh, all right then."

Juggalug didn't even have time to swallow before the man plucked off his hat and used it to swipe the banshee out of the air.

"Thank you, Papa!" The girl wasted no time in reaching into the hat, fishing Juggalug out again, and crushing him against her chest in an overly enthusiastic embrace. "Thank you, thank you!"

Faced with this indignity, Juggalug's first reaction was only what came naturally to any species in the event of sudden and unexpected capture: to scream. As has previously been established, Juggalug's scream was more impressive than most.