Carver told the besotted creature many tales of his travels on L'Ile Maurice, where he ventured with a band of followers known as the Di Ofae Group, wandering into the wilderness of the Mauritian jungle, and strolling along headlands yet untouched by man, which stood, proud and beautiful with the sea lashing against it's crumbling sides every second. He told the whale shark tales of the city of Grand Baie, where it is said that alcohol runs out of taps rather than water, and described the many adventures himself and his followers were involved in, attempting to hide the secrets by placing the more "influenced" victims in hotel rooms, to sleep the effects of the vile substance off. Throughout this story, Bobulous noticed Carver's spectacular eyes darting from his own eyes to his right fin frequently, and expected a somewhat unwanted question about the incident never spoken of, not even to beautiful blue-eyed strangers such as Carver.
"Bobulous," Carver declared after a small, mutually at ease silence, " I find your company to be most pleasant, but at the moment I need a hug. When your apparent melting has stopped, I shall return and claim my hug." He smiled warmly at Bobulous, before swiftly darting to the lunch queue. Bobulous cursed himself as Carver departed; the September months of the school year were always difficult, as the heat from the summer holidays had not yet always passed, and Bobulous would often experience difficulty in keeping himself from changing state. It would remind him of that terrible day in primary school, learning about "solids, liquids, and gases", and the many questions to Miss Prill about whether Bobulous would evaporate if he melted and was left in the sun for long enough. Naturally, that maladjusted witch of a teacher had stifled a snigger (for the mysterious Miss Prill had a part to play in that certain incident mentioned several times previously, but you must remember, dear reader, that it is an incident never spoken of).
After moving to the vacant air conditioned classroom for the remainder of lunch, Carver returned to find Bobulous seated at his usual desk at the back of the room. He strode to his new found friend, his arms wide, his beautiful eyes almost dazzling in the sunlight refracting in through the window. Bobulous tentatively stood up, and put his fins around the tall but slight boy. It was a comforting feeling, being hugged. When Carver held him tightly, Bobulous felt a sanctuary he only ever felt from the most tender of a father's embrace, not to mention a slight arousal as their bodies almost intertwined. But of course, due to his parents and grandparents, Bobulous was not in the least bit homophobic, and continued to embrace his comrade as a symbol of their everlasting fraternity now welded from the beginning of their short friendship. Bobulous had never felt such a connection with any non-chocolate entity before. It made him wonder where Carver originally came from, how he gained his breathtaking beauty, and which side of his genetic pool was responsible for his magical, ethereal, almost unearthly eyes.
"Yes, well...I appreciate your curiosity about my humble self, but this is not the time or the place to begin talking about where I have come from. Now pray tell me, which lesson comes after lunch today?"
"Er...I believe it's drama, but I'm not sure, let me check." Bobulous fumbled in his schoolbag awkwardly, for despite the highly successful lawsuit, school supply companies had yet to manufacture a satchel which was easy on the fins. After extracting his timetable from the mass of swimming certificates and didgeridoo repertoire, he concluded to his friend that the next lesson was indeed drama.
Sure enough, the bell rang it's familiar tune, which happened to be the song known as "Milkshake". It was chosen for the school in honour of Bobulous's popular five initials, needless to say. As they walked down the corridor together, Carver voiced a question that had evidently been stuck in his mind for most of the corridor.
"Tell me Bobulous....DOES your milkshake bring all the boys to the yard?" he asked, attempting unsuccessfully to stifle a snigger. Bobulous mockingly frowned at him, before joining in the merry laughter as they made their way to the drama studio, two foil-plated individuals amidst a sea of shining gold. Upon reaching their destination, their drama teacher, a Mr Van Vleet, hopped into the classroom, for he was a First Day Advent Hoppist.
"Gentlemen, ladies...and whale, of course," he said, smiling warmly if slightly stiffly at Bobulous, for it was the unfortunate Mr Van Vleet who managed the school funds, being the Bursar as well as a drama teacher. He was of course the poor individual who had to pay for the voluminous lawsuit made against their chocolate-whale-sharkism. "Today we are focusing primarily on the medium of drama known as DANCE. Yes, dance, that odd movement you do with various parts of your body in time to a rhythm of some description. I understand it is beyond the capability of a select few of you to be able to do this particular movement without a characteristic thrusting of the pelvic regions. Believe you me, if I see any waggling crotches around the room at any time, that waggling crotch will be very sorry indeed."
The class separated into pairs, and as Carver and Bobulous attempted a dubious pas-de-dorsel, they continued their discussion from lunchtime. "You see," said Carver, "I'm afraid I am not what I appear, dear Bobulous. Don't worry, it shouldn't affect you, but please do not be offended if I ever turn down any invitation that may take place in the...small hours of the morning. I mean...it doesn't happen OFTEN, but just to warn you now, when it happens, I shall know, and I will have no choice but to refuse your marvellous company for a night. You understand that, surely?" Bobulous nodded his chocolatey head in understanding as he pirouetted on a single fin, while Carver's almost feather-light body flew through the air as he gracefully leapt from one side of Bobulous to the other. "Perhaps one day I shall tell you more about this...but now is not the time or the place" he repeated, before stopping the soon-to-be ridiculous prancing, and staring vacantly into space for a second, his delicate features below his beautiful eyes looking troubled for a few seconds. Bobulous put a fin around him in sympathy, wishing he could help his mysterious new friend. He offered him an invitation to his house this afternoon, in hope that Carver would be able to accept, which happily, he was.
After the long arduous school day was over, Carver accompanied Bobulous into the very and extremely inconspicuous stretch limousine decorated with multi-coloured whale shark memorabilia, which played a mashup of the Jaws and Free Willy themes as the doors automatically opened. After the rather swift journey was over, Carver gazed in wonder as they entered the door of the winding rabbit-warren of corridors and tunnels that was Ben and the man baby's fabled chocolate factory. Upon meeting the legendary founders, he threw himself down at their feet, and pledged allegiance and admiration towards their family for all eternity. Ben and the man baby accepted Carver with open arms, and they spent a most enjoyable afternoon hunting cliche white chocolate bunny rabbits, before rather unthinkingly trying to roast them before consuming them, so as to appear as if they knew about the great outdoors. Bobulous noticed with intense admiration that Carver had a knack for spotting things outdoors that others simply did not notice, and soon came to realise that every story he told about his adventures in L'Ile Maurice was true. After their chocolate-rabbit hunt was over, the four of them sat around a campfire (Bobulous of course remained behind Carver during this time, for he did not particularly want to melt while he was having so much fun), and Carver repeated his Mauritian tales to Ben and the man baby. Ben seemed to be particularly fascinated by Carver, and Bobulous often spotted him gazing into those famous eyes, similarly to the way he himself did. He chuckled to himself at this little observation.
Carver went on to describe his tales in much more detail, talking of a mysterious member of his Di Ofae Group known simply as "Diglet". The man baby did not recognise the name, but Ben was startled at the mention of "Diglet", and was forcibly reminded of a caring, loving community he once knew, of love notes, of long seemingly never-ending MSN conversations, and of a strange period in November when everyone seemed to confine themselves to their computer, in order to type a certain number of words in a certain number of days. Ben was alarmed at these random memories coming back to him, one after the other, for it seemed that they almost came out of a past life, from another universe...
Bobulous also came to notice some slightly strange behaviour about Carver. He would abruptly change the subject whenever the talk of Bobulous' brother the Presifrog came into conversation, and could barely contain a hiss of fear and revulsion as a lemon juicer was taken out of the cupboard. Why he acted this way was not immediately apparent, and Bobulous spent most of the night pondering these strange incidences. Carver embraced him as he parted the next morning; a man who Bobulous assumed to be his father had appeared with a large camping rucksack, and a paper bag over his face. Carver whispered "Until we meet again, comrade...in the eons of tomorrow" into Bobulous's gill, and strode towards his father, his posture perfectly erect in the sunlight, his long delicate arms swinging by his sides. It was at that moment that Bobulous knew something was very very wrong. His long delicate arms seemed to be... yellow.
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