50-A Minotaur Lane, Friday Morning
Aziraphale had promised to take care of packing for the weekend while Wilson was off on a telephone consult with one of his former colleagues. So the angel was standing in the bedroom, very neatly folding various items of clothing and placing them on the bed.
Unfortunately, his work was being disturbed by a small flock of weetiny penguins. Each time a folded item was set down, a group of the little birds burrowed under it, until there were small clothing-mound-tents all over the bed.
With a sigh, Aziraphale rubbed his face. "All right now, all of you. If you really want to help...you can roll up the socks and ties." He dropped a pile of mismatched socks and a handful of ties onto the mattress. "Now make sure the socks are in matching pairs. And then roll them up and put them in the suitcase."
A couple of penguins poked their heads out from under a pair of boxers, and then with a wee chirp descended on the pile of socks. Soon, wee penguins were careening about the bed, chasing sock-rolls back and forth, while two groups played tug of war with a striped tie.
Shaking his head bemusedly, the angel finally gave up and headed downstairs.
"Sorry, James love, I'll have to pack later. The penguins are getting in the way."
[Establishy! Unless the fake mate would like add something, that is.]
Unfortunately, his work was being disturbed by a small flock of weetiny penguins. Each time a folded item was set down, a group of the little birds burrowed under it, until there were small clothing-mound-tents all over the bed.
With a sigh, Aziraphale rubbed his face. "All right now, all of you. If you really want to help...you can roll up the socks and ties." He dropped a pile of mismatched socks and a handful of ties onto the mattress. "Now make sure the socks are in matching pairs. And then roll them up and put them in the suitcase."
A couple of penguins poked their heads out from under a pair of boxers, and then with a wee chirp descended on the pile of socks. Soon, wee penguins were careening about the bed, chasing sock-rolls back and forth, while two groups played tug of war with a striped tie.
Shaking his head bemusedly, the angel finally gave up and headed downstairs.
"Sorry, James love, I'll have to pack later. The penguins are getting in the way."
[Establishy! Unless the fake mate would like add something, that is.]