Misty Whoppers

Interview with Misty Whoppers, taken from Book One, The Monuments of Panda Johnson.

Subject: Interview by April F Parka with:

Misty Whoppers

misty whoppers

April F Parka (I straighten my blouse and knock loudly on the door to Bambii’s room, I hear a feint) “Enter.” (I open the door and walk in. Misty is sitting with a rather stern looking face, legs and arms folded sitting in what looks like the most uncomfortable chair in the entire Hotel. All I can think is that I want this over sooner rather than later!)

Misty Whoppers “Hey.”

April F Parka “Good afternoon, Miss Whoppers.” (I smile inwardly, she may be a star and in a bad mood but that’s not my fault, I know full well from my research she hates that name.)

Misty Whoppers “Get out!”

AFP “Excuse me?”

MW “You heard me, get out! I hate that name, everyone knows it and I do not appreciate some pumped up over enthusiastic tart of a journalist trying to get one over on me, now pick up your stuff and get the PHUQ out.”

AFP (My heart is still beating like a steel drum as I slam the door shut to her room) “And the next!”

Conducted at the Seven Stars, Grand Vacation Resort & Hotel, Cornwall, UK. by

April F Parka

the following is an exert taken from The Monuments of Panda Johnson

Misty near jumped out of her skin, her little grey ears laying flat against the top of her brown and orange hair. “By the light of the Sixth Moon of Versed, what was that?” she exclaimed.

The others looked, with some surprise at the new arrival in their midst, it wasn't every day that a plain brown cardboard box appeared from nowhere and interrupted their meetings.

This was of course with the exception of Dang, who had rolled, still snoring off of his chair and onto the floor, curled into a ball; pulled the hood of his tatty withered old robe further over his head muttering, “Terry Trew, was nearly two...” Zzzzz...

Alice and Panda stood up and walked behind Misty peering up through the flickering hazy light at the dirty old glass roof that covered the hall, stained with millions of bird feces , the roof always looked as if it was in peril of collapse.

They wondered, as would most rational people, where exactly the box had come from?

Everyone, with the obvious exception of Dang gathered around the box, staring first at the dilapidated roof… Then at the box...

Roof...

Box...

Roof...

Box….

(You get the idea).

Dang woke with a start... “My kingdom for a horse,” he screamed and fell straight back to sleep.

Snoring loudly.

“Could this meeting, well, it’s not even a meeting yet,” huffed Misty, “Actually get any more bizarre? I mean, where in the seven Gods of Farn did this come from?”

Alice looked at her, “Do you know any religions that have just one deity?” she asked.

“Oh, I don't believe in any of them…” Misty gave Alice a sickly sweet smile, “I was brought up not to swear, not that it worked that well so sometimes I find it easier to blame false gods.” 

“Right...” was all Alice could say, drawing the word out and taking a step away.

Blinknott had dropped to one knee beside the box, “It says Express Delivery from e4.6 Wales on the dispatch label.” He tapped the side of the box to indicate the sickly yellow label he was referring to.

“Never heard of it, where this e4.6 Wales?” asked Alice.

“Pancakes,” squealed Bambii excitedly.

“Quite,” replied Blinknott bemused as much by Bambii's excitement as by the cardboard box.