Reuben approached me last weekend because he had recently had a dream that had perplexed him and needed to know what it meant.
This is mostly his dream with details but with a smudge of embellishment on my part:
“Reuben is walking around school with his new fictional best friend, Daniel. They had decided to walk back home through the woods once the school day was over. The woods, though dark, were still light enough to be unthreatening. They had gone halfway through when they heard a strange noise and a bright blue flash, and stood at the base of a tree was a beaver.
They tried to get near but each time the beaver disappeared and reappeared in a different part of the woods. Sometimes the beaver would appear in different attire, and in particular as a Mexican. Reuben and Daniel split up and in doing so, one of them managed to grab the beaver. As the other approached, the bright blue light flashed and they had magically been transported to ancient Egypt.
It was at this point they realised it was a magical, time-travelling beaver.
The animal was tired; time-travelling is a very tiring experience. The only way to re-charge the beaver was to feed him a particular type of wood. Once this was done, Reuben and Daniel had to try to convince the beaver that they needed to go home, which was difficult because the beaver was worshipped as a God in this period of history.
After a fair amount of tussling, the beaver accidentally transports them to the post apocalyptic world of 2704. Then, through a series of mishaps, they also take in the sights of the Jurassic era, the Romans, pirates, Aztecs, Victorian era Britain, World War II and the 1980’s.
Eventually though they get home and decide to keep the beaver as a pet. It turns out he is called Harold. His full name is Harold “Carrot” Bevoid. In his time he drives a Beaver Delorean. His time is not specifically mentioned so they do not know what year he has time-travelled from.”
…
Something to do with puberty perhaps?
11 comments on “What did you just say about beavers?”
The powerful imagery of this dream has left me completely unable to comment for two whole days.
In fact, even now I… the… no.
It’s hard to know what to say and which order to say it in. I’m surprised I managed to put mine the right way round. It was almost upside down and inside out.
Like Kev’s face.
You could probably reel off another couple of zingers if you wanted. He won’t be around for another few weeks at least.
You know, my sink is currently clogged up with the remnants of last night’s tea. Looks a right mess.
A bit like Kev’s face.
You know, I accidentally ran over a gar of gherkins and curried parsnips at the weekend. Looked a right mess.
A bit like Kev’s face.
That’s three solid gold zingers. They’re all disgusting and make me a little bit nauseous to think about, the sort of thing that you just wish you could forget because it threatens to scar your memory and haunt your dreams.
A bit like Kev’s face.
That one zipped past my head and stuck in the wall. What a zinger. That was off the scale!
Also I’ve realised I wrote ‘gar of gherkins’. I hope that’s a real thing.
ZING! Leave my lovely face out of this, Harold had no agenda against my face.
Unless they were time travelling to get away from it? I know I would if it looked like a gar of gherkins.
I didn’t think they sold gherkins in gars any more. They tend to seep in warm weather.
The thing is, I’ve seen gars and I’ve seen gars keen. If they don’t come in gars surely they’ll lose some of their keenness?