It was the morning after the night before, unsurprisingly. For if it was the morning after two nights before, a lot of confusion would ensue. Ben walked down the stairs with a mudpack on his face, and a nail file in hand. “Holy guacamole! It’s the gay monster!” Helen screeched jokingly at the top of her lungs.
The previous night, Ben had run into Helen’s room and written drunken messages on her wall, and Helen had done the same in response until well after midnight.
“What’s up, snoochykins?” Ben asked the rhetorical question to which Helen never really knew how to reply to, for she thought it was clear what was up.
Looking up, she replied “the roof, a light, and a large spider.” Ben’s eyes widened significantly enough to crack the mudpack as he hated spiders. “Ha. It worked! I cracked your mudpack yet again!” Ben wearily mumbled something before cutting up a cucumber to put on his eyes.
At this stage, Ben and Helen had reached a point when they would talk about things which nobody could ever hear of outside of their conversations. Ever. Things so secret that the most secretive person in the world could not dream them up. However, Helen was yet to tell Ben about Carver. But she had taught Ben how to use some of his psychic powers. He was now able, to his utter delight, to detect where packets of Super Noodles, specifically chicken flavour, were sold. This useless talent amused Ben and he went to some groups of people on the street attempting to make bets on where the nearest packet of chicken flavoured super noodles lay, to be met by many a raised eyebrow.
However, we will now leave Ben and Helen for a chapter or two and turn back to four time zones away. In the green fields of Somerset, the splitting image of Carver and the presifrog lay hopelessly in the garden of the nearby cider farm. “Oh, presi presi presifrog. Whatever will we do?” sighed the splitting image of Carver, who we have yet to discover the name of. For such reasons, up until we come across his name, we will refer to him as “The splitting image of Carver, but with distinctly less attractive eyes”
“I don’t know” The presifrog told the splitting image of Carver, but with distinctly less attractive eyes. “It’s a dead end. They’re gone. Without a trace. All of them.” The presifrog looked the splitting image of Carver, but with distinctly less attractive eyes and felt lost. “We can’t have Ben and Helen together. Their greatness will overshadow us all. We need to drain them. Drain them of all the pizzazz they contain. “Frank Le-Môn, I need your help.”
It was now that The splitting image of Carver, but with distinctly less attractive eye’s true eyedentity was revealed. Frank Le-Môn’s full name was Frank Allen Ivor Le-Môn.
As he grew up, he liked to go by his surname. Le-Môn felt it was his duty to follow the likes of evil dictators, who seemed to use their last name in identifying themselves. Le-Môn looked up to these horrific murderers as his idols, thus he attempted to copy them in all ways possible. But poor Le-Môn could not grow facial hair in which food could stick to. This annoyed him ever so.
Back to the story, the presifrog and Le-Môn were lost. They felt that they needed to find Helen. It was impossible that she could escape in the first place, they thought. But when it was discovered that the population of the alternative universe had lessened, the presifrog was very worried.
“Le-Môn, we must go to find these people. My dad can never ever get in contact with this woman. If he were to, he would remember everything. And eventually he’d remember me brainwashing him, with a bit of time. Even if he has met her, there’s still hope. Now we need a plan.”
Le-Môn’s attractive yet evil face turned dramatically to stare up at the sky. His voice deepened and his eyes became more squinted, as if he were a bad actor playing part in a low budget film. “then we must go. For I know where they are.”
“What?! How? Where?”
“It was quite simple really. They have both been known to carry around penguin puppets. Well, they must have picked up psychic connections and met in the same place. Using my incredible powers of deduction, they can only be in the land of penguins. Now, as we speak, Ben and Helen and/or Diglet are talking to each other in the land of penguins. They are at The South Pole!”
“They must be!” Yelled the most intelligent frog ever to exist. “It makes perfect logical sense. Antarctica, here we come! Wow, we are certainly Genii. The bestest genii the world has ever seen.”
You, my lovely reader, will know very well that “genii” really is not a word used in modern times by anybody. Of course, the more acceptable form of genius is geniuses. A genii being an alternative name for the mythological genie who will grant the wishes of those who wish, often with evil and unconventional twists. You will also know that the word “bestest” also is not a word which should be used by someone who is not excessively cute and bubbly. For the presifrog was neither of these things, he should have in no circumstances used the word “bestest”. Ever.
As the presifrog was packing his bags and getting ready for the journey, in America the headlines were going crazy. “World Leader Vainshed!” “Where oh where is the presifrog?!” “Presifrog Croaked?” . The presifrog had become so engulfed in these events that he had forgotten about the whole ruling the world’s economy thing he had going on. This had led to widespread panic, and an inexperienced Alaskan vice president who had somehow gotten into the 2012 elections taking control in his absence.
The first new law passed was The Deer Hunting Act, forbidding everyone not to hunt deer on a daily basis. This had led to exactly ninety seven percent of the population of the United States of America to flee to other lands. Wanting to get as far away as possible, precisely fifteen thousand, six hundred and twenty one people had packed their bags and headed to Antarctica. The presifrog, however, was unaware of this.
Le-Môn had managed to pack the presifrog in his suitcase and passed the presifrog off as a squeaky toy. He boarded the oddly packed flight to Antarctica and let the presifrog out.
“What are all of these people doing heading to Antarctica? And who is that hottie over there?” The presifrog grinned at the sight of a man wearing designer clothes and looking the image of perfection. His long, curly silky hare gently balancing the features on his face, the lips so full and beautiful that the presifrog could nibble them right there and then.
“Erm… presifrog… I never knew you liked guys.”
The presifrog realised what he had just said and claimed “I was saying hottie, because… he must be hot… in those clothes…”
“Yeah…” said Le-Môn, unconvinced.
The presifrog sighed, secretly wishing that Le-Môn would confess his undying love for him, and that they could live forever happily, in a big country house with endless fields of flowers.
When the plane landed, out stepped Le-Môn onto the frozen ground, presifrog in hand. “Woah, it’s cold. Dammit. I forgot my coat.” Le-Môn muttered.
In the distance could be seen hundreds of tiny penguins. “Right, Le-Môn. Here’s the plan. We go to the penguins and ask them if they’ve seen two extremely attractive and breathtakingly amazing people around here.” They picked up their suitcases and struggled though the confusingly large crowd of people carrying tents with them, seeds in hand, hoping to find fertile soil. Of course, we must note, not one of these people paid any attention in geography class. And a group of twenty walked up to the nearest penguin asking where the nearest McDonalds was. A minute later, a man took out the American flag and placed it in the ground, causing a gigantic crack which scared many away. “I now christen this land - the Land of… America#2!” The new president got drift of this and thought it was a good idea, declaring that she will go to war with the penguins if they did not change the name of Antarctica to America#2. They obliged.
The presifrog and Le-Môn walked quickly and briskly to the large group of penguins in the distance. They were very close now to the south pole, in fact, they could even see the pole in the distance. It was a large pole, painted pink with bright green spots, as anyone who has travelled there would know.
But as they approached the pole, they saw that the sea of thousands of penguins were in fact people.
Fifteen thousand, six hundred and twenty one people huddled together. The largest desert of tents the world had ever seen outside of Glastonbury, and somehow there were endless green fields of plants and crops and running water. Do not bother questioning how, because I can’t be bothered to explain. But it involved two bananas, three cucumber sandwiches, a single coconut and a partridge in a pear tree.
The two approached the large group of people and asked some if they had seen two amazing people. Some pointed in one direction, others in the other. “Le-Môn, what will we do? We know they’re here somewhere due to your incredible powers of deduction.”
“Well, presifrog, we must keep looking! And when we find them we can banish them to the land of the banned for eternity, making sure to lock the windows behind us. I heard we can get stronger locks half price now, at Lockshop, the world’s best store for locks. Open Monday to Friday 9am to 5pm. Certain locks half price, for a limited time only. See in store for details.”
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Please note - Lockshop sells the best locks in town. We were not paid to put this in. Honest *shifty eyes*
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“Okay, we’ll go to that shop, after we find them. But for now, we must keep looking.”
“Agreed” replied Le-Môn.
In a land far away, known as Dubai, Helen and Ben sat having a long discussion about everything. As Helen’s psychic ability picked up where the presifrog and Le-Môn were, the side of her mouth lifted to a small and smug grin. It would be a while, she thought, before the presifrog and Le-Môn would find the two of them. By which time she was sure that Ben would be psychic enough to work with her to save the world.
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