‘Can I bring the meeting to order?’ The Lord Chamberlain, Rodney Putupon straightened his papers and cast a jaundiced eye around the table. No one met his gaze. They wouldn’t, of course. The ordure, when it hit the air conditioning, would be heading in his direction, not theirs. ‘Let’s do this gentlemen,’ he bowed his head slightly to the crones to his left, ‘ladies,’ and then to the shelves behind, ‘and animated toys. Item 1, Prince Dribling’s indicative plans to extend the magical Schloss…’

‘I call it an outrage,’ a red faced troll banged the table, the steam from his ears inadvertently poaching the witch seated to his left, causing her to dissolve and reform three seats away, from where she cursed the troll rendering him both mute and arboreal.

The Lord Chamberlain rapped his gavel, ‘Dorothea Wisebuttock, would you please return Bertrand Gritbrain to us. We have to be quorate for this and you know hawthorns can’t vote.’

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