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Bill and Lydia were sipping their coffees by the time Dave and Rammi showed up. They introduced their newly acquired friend, Crystal, and hands were shaken, chairs pulled and more coffees put on the tab. In fact, the barista couldn’t be bothered with all the coffee requests that he brought out one of those tea trolleys with a huge Moka pot, big enough to fit a human, which created, through cogs, steam and sheer caffeinated determination, a delicious espresso.

And that, readers, is where I am telling you the truth. The great thing about being told a story, by a skull on the window is that I am not confined by time. So while Bill and Lydia managed to prevent the big flood and free a plant to death, and Rammi, Dave and Crystal stopped the jam explosion and possible death by a dragon, neither party had actually solved the real issue.

The real issue being that Joe had his nap 15 minutes late. Which meant he slept 15 minutes longer than he should have. Dorothy had been at the café the whole time, that morning, when everyone was there discussing their plans for the day. And when the team broke up, it was just her and me. Well, she thought she was actually alone. She didn’t realize I was watching her. She thought I was simply an inanimate object with no soul. Which isn’t that far off from the truth. But I am also a great narrator. Right? Don’t argue. I’m telling you a story here.

So Dorothy got a little antsy waiting all on her own. Usually Joe came down and sat with her. They would order breakfast together and spend some quality time before going about their business. They believed it was what held their marriage together, you understand. And that might be true. Those in a long term relationship who take time out for one another often do stay married till the end. Amazing how most of the time you only need to put a little effort in to keep things ticking over. I’m sure there is a life lesson in there somewhere, but we can’t focus on that right now. I’ve got to tell you the big turn of events.

You see, because she was antsy, Dorothy got up. For the first time in twenty years, she got up from the table to go and peer around the corner to see where the hell Joe was. And by doing so, a dog by the name of Ollie, looked up. Normally he would be chewing his ball endlessly without a care in the world. But because Dorothy, who he was absolutely in love with, unconditionally, he looked up. His sticky saliva kept the ball in place for a few seconds. But the glutinous consistency couldn’t hold it forever against gravity. The unyielding force pulled and caused the ball to roll out of the paws and down the cobbled stones. He would have gone after it, but Dorothy turned, came back, and scratched his ears, causing further distractions.

The ball rolled straight into a drain pipe and fitted perfectly. The water that was flowing into the pipe started to accumulate on top of the ball and eventually filled up the gutter. The cobblestone grout got covered in water, and it rose up to completely cover the stones. It took a few hours, but eventually the water started to flood the little street and was slowly flooding its way up to the main road where our main characters are, discussing what exactly could possibly happen that would cause the end of the town.

And so, readers, a little blocked drain might not seem like such a big thing to you. But what you might not know is that in this world, if you haven’t gathered, are beasts and creatures that are not of your realm. Although in this particular situation, the creature in question is. I was trying to do a little clickbait to build suspense. You won‘t believe what happened next.

Beavers.

Yes. Beavers.

Now, before you get overexcited because you fell for the other clickbait trap of the title and assumed that perhaps Smut might refer to something sensual and now I am talking about beavers which could be the innuendo you have been drooling all over your device for, I hate to inform you, but you are mistaken. The beavers that were getting chills down their back that there was a large body of water accumulating, were regular beavers with slapping tails.

I will tell you that beaver feet are the cutest feet if that’s your jam and helps if you’re sad about being tricked into reading this post. I hope that’s a good consolation prize.

But enough about smutty beaver feet. Let me tell you about how Smutty really comes into the story.

You see it was Bill who spotted the water. The others were talking and discussing endlessly. But Bill, who was a man of few words, was bored with all this talking and instead was trying to work out why the one-sided lane had so much glare to it. Being a man of little words, the others did not expect him to say much. So when he went “ahem,’ they all looked at him, then looked to where he was looking.

“What? You looking at a Maude hideout?” asked Dave. “You know she’s got hideouts all over the city, since she got entered in The Peckish Games.

”A puddle? What about it Bill?”
‘It’s growing,” said Crystal, staring at it with wide eyes.

Bill nodded.

”I don’t understand,” said Lydia. What does it matter?”

”Hello everyone!!’ A voice pipped up.

They all turned, and the lid off the Moka popped off. A rear end resembling a yoga ball arose, and reversed out the pot, followed by two knock-kneed legs, covered in espresso-drenched khaki. Ziggy chaotically climbed out, dripping in hot coffee. He ran his face through his hands, and as he did so, his ears got pressed down, but then flapped back up, like a child’s bop bag. He whizzed round, his hands cupped together.

Lydia put her arm out and simply tipped the cup of espresso she had been drinking, upside down so that it poured completely out.

“I’m never drinking coffee again,” she muttered.

“What’s in your hand, Ziggy?” Bill asked.

“Don’t ask…” Lydia replied, but it was too late. He opened his hands to reveal the common toad.

Lydia whirled on her wrought-iron chair to hurl.

Rammi simply smacked his lips together.

“You and your pet must be exquisitely clean,” he said, “for I did not taste a drop of your presence in this cup.”

“Did you know,” Ziggy said, completely ignoring the fact that he had just climbed out of a giant coffee pot. “Beavers are attracted to large pools of water. You can read all about it in my book: ‘Dams, Dikes, and Domestic Disappointment: A Four-Part Retrospective on Aquatic Construction.’ And if all the beavers are coming down here…”

“That means they’re not going to be monitoring!” Crystal blurted out.

“That was kind of my line, Susan,” Ziggy replied.

“My name isn’t Susan,” Crystal snapped.

“What dam?” Rammi asked.

“The dam that Ned’s great-great-granddad built, at the top of the Perky Peaks (another innuendo! You’re welcome).”

“Whose Ned?” Dave asked.

“Janice’s brother in law. But the real issues that Louie’s cousin, Nicholas, busy doing maintenance and fix-ups on the dam, along with Peter, Jason, Jessie and Michelle. If the beavers come down here, no one is up there, which means the whole thing could fall apart.”

“How do you know about this?” Crystal asked.

“Because I’m LYDIA” Lydia shouted, as if she had been waiting her life for that question.

“How we going to get up there?” Dave asked.

“You could ask Smut…” Ziggy said.

“Who?” Dave asked.

“Thank you for coming to my TED Talk,” Ziggy said and then climbed back to the coffee pot. “Oh, and be sure to keep a lookout for my next book: From Java to Jumps: A Seven-Part Field Study on Caffeine Intake in Common Bull Frog.’”

“Smut is a dragon,” Crystal said, turning to the others. “You ever heard of Smaug? He was a gold-hoarding dragon, that hid in a dwarf cave and got chased out by a hobbit. He was doing spring cleaning of something. I can’t remember the details. The point is, the author gave the name Smaug, which is the perfect name for a dragon. S-MAAA_UG. Your face contorts when you say it, into a sound that sounds like brimstone and Ash. Brilliant piece of writing. Smut is Smaug’s cousin. Smut can mean something naughty, like a dragon of the night. But this isn’t that kind of tale. Smut here, is simply a reference to a smudge of charcoal. A dragon that is clumsy and, I guess, smudgy. It’s a name that has fulfilled its own destiny, which, interestingly enough, is called an Aptronym. Not to be confused with a name that gives you inherited influence, which is called nepotism. That’s a different thing.”

“Where do we find this dragon?” Dave asked.

“You’d best all come with me,” Crystal replied, leading them downtown.

“What’s a TED Talk?” Lydia asked.

“BYE SUSAN!!” Ziggy shouted from the coffee pot.