The audience laughed, as an audience will, as a detached sum of its individually wounded parts. That's life. But it's not very nice.
'This is foul,' said Jack. The crew pig glared at him.
Jack caught the green clown's attention and the green clown came over to Jack.
'Well well well,' said the green clown, grinning hugely at Jack. 'What do we have here? I love the coat, are you wearing it for a dare?'
The audience laughed. Jack curled his lip. 'And is this your little bear?' The green clown beamed at Eddie.
Jack beckoned the green clown close and whispered certain cautionary words into his green rubber ear.
The green clown stiffened. 'So, on with the show,' he said. 'Clockworks, stuffed and toy folk generally, allow me to introduce your hostess. The one, the only, Toy City's favourite Miss. Here she is. Heeeeeeere's Missy.'
The controller bawled instructions, overhead lights swung, focused and shone.
The clockwork orchestra struck up music.
And she made her entrance.
'The one. The only. Miss Muffett.
'Applause!' shouted the green clown.
And applause there was.
Jack turned his eyes towards the spotlit entrance of the Miss, but his view was immediately obstructed by a clockwork cameraman.
He ducked his head this way and that. And then Jack saw her: Miss Muffett.
Jack's jaw fell and his eyes became wide.
'What is that?' he asked.
19
If Jack had held to any religious beliefs, he might well have said that Miss Muffett was a sight to stagger the senses of the Gods.
But, as he was an atheist, he espoused no such claims. Instead he simply followed the words 'What is that?' with a single word.
And that single word was 'Wowser!'
'Wowser?' Eddie asked. 'What's Wowser?'
'Wowser,' Jack went once more. 'She is Wowser. She. Well. Wowser. She is.'
Eddie gazed upon Miss Muffett. 'Wowser?' he said thoughtfully. 'That would probably do it.'
And it probably would.
From her tippy tiptoes to her tinted topknot, Miss Muffett •was wonderfully wowser. She was wonderfully wowser to all points of the compass, and probably some others too.
She was remarkably wonderfully wowser, in fact.
Worryingly wowser.
As Jack viewed Miss Muffett, the wowser word came once more to his lips; Jack swallowed it back. What was so wonderfully wowser about this woman? he wondered.
Was it the hair?
Miss Muffett had the big hair of the famous.
It is a fact well known to those who know it well, and anyone in fact who ever watches TV, or goes to the movies, that although the fabulously famous may ultimately not end up always possessing big hair, they almost certainly began with it.
Big hair is a prerequisite. It is a given, as is big face and small body. It is a requirement when it comes to richness and famousness. Choose your favourite star of stage or screen; they will inevitably have had their big hair days.
Miss Muffett was currently having hers. Her hair was huge; it was blonde and it was huge. It outhuged the dollies in the lobby portraits. It went every-which-way, and every-which-way-hair is unashamedly erotic.
Curiously, bald heads on women are similarly erotic, but they're not nearly so much fun as big-haired heads. You can really get your hands into big-haired heads. And blondie big-haired heads...
Well...
Wowser!
Miss Muffett's eyes were big and blue. Her nose was tiny. Her mouth was full and wide. Slender was her neck and narrow her shoulders. Large and well-formed were her breasts, and her waist was as of the wasp. Her hips were the hips of a Goddess. Her low-necked gown, a sheath of shimmering stars. Her legs, as long as they were, and they were, were made to seem much longer by the lengthy heels upon her wowsery shoes.
And so on and so forth and such like. Da de da de da.
'She's certainly something,' said Eddie.
'I hate her,' said Jack.
'What?'
'That's not how it should be.' The beady eyes of the crew pig were once more upon Jack, and so Jack whispered to Eddie. 'That's not how it should be,' he said once more.
'Not what?’ Eddie asked.
'Not how a woman should be.'
'And you, a mere stripling of a lad, know how a woman should be?'
Thoughts of Jill from Madame Goose's returned to Jack. Not that they had ever been much away. Jill was, young as she was, the way a woman should be; in fact, she was everything that a woman should be, in Jack's admittedly somewhat limited opinion. Miss Muffett's beauty was there. It was definitely there. It was amazingly, wowseringly there. But it was too much. It was extreme. It was wowser, yes, but it was worryingly wowser.
'You can't look like that,’ Jack whispered. 'Not really. It's too much. Do you know what I mean, Eddie? It's too much. It makes me feel uncomfortable.'
Eddie grinned, but he said nothing.
A single spotlight illuminated Miss Muffett. ‘
‘Allo loves,' she said in a deep and husky tone. 'Welcome to The Tuffet. Today we shall be dealing with the sensitive subject of interracial relationships. Can a fuzzy felt mouse find happiness with a wooden kangaroo? Can a teddy bear truly know love in clockwork arms?'
'Not if it's me and Tinto,' sniggered Eddie.
'Shut it!' snarled the crew pig.
'Can a big fat pug-ugly rubber dancing doll with bad dress sense and a small moustache really want to marry the worm-eaten wooden chef from Nadine's Diner?'
Jack shrugged.
'Search me,' said Eddie. 'But she'd probably be grateful for anything, by the sound of her.'
'Very last warning,' said the crew pig.
'Let's ask them,' said Miss Muffett, ascending the stage and setting her wowseringly wonderful behind onto the central tuffet thereof.
The controller bawled the word 'Applause' through the megaphone. And applause there was.
Rude crew pigs ushered the guests onto the stage. One was a big fat pug-ugly dancing doll in a revolting sportswear suit. The other was a worm-eaten wooden chef.
'Oh,' said Jack. 'It's him.'
'Him?' whispered Eddie, cowering beneath the gaze of the rude crew pig.
'The first night I was in the city,' said Jack. 'I went into a Nadine's Diner. He was the chef. I thought he was a man in a wooden mask or something.'
'And I woke you up in the alley outside,' whispered Eddie.
The big fat pug-ugly dancing doll required two tuffets to sit down upon; rude crew pigs moved them into place. The worm-eaten wooden chef sat down beside her.
Miss Muffett introduced her guests to the audience:
Jack yawned.
'Tired?' said Eddie.
'Short attention span,' said Jack. 'We had shows like this on TV in my town. I'm bored already.'
'Jaded with the glamour of celebrity already,' said Eddie. 'The fickleness of youth, eh?'
'That's it,' said the rude crew pig. 'Out, the pair of you.'
'I've had quite enough of you,' said Jack. 'Clear off.'
'Be quiet,' said the rude crew pig. 'Keep your voice down. The show is in progress.'
'Does this show go out live?’ Jack asked the rude crew pig.
'It certainly does,' the pig replied.
'Then it would be a terrible shame if it were to be interrupted wouldn't it?'
The rude crew pig made a very foul face at Jack.
'Interrupted by me throwing you onto the stage and then kicking you all around and about on it.'
Eddie flinched.
The rude crew pig stiffened.
'Then leave us alone,' said Jack. 'Or I will make a great deal of noise and cause a great deal of trouble.'
'Just keep it down.' The rude crew pig made a very worried face.