Added£1.99Add to basket(A long short story of 30186 words)
The Non-Adventures of Mr Sproutface and Mr Wibbleton
Children's Humour
by Nick Lovering
Mr Sproutface and Mr Wibbleton, committed jumper wearers, museum visitors and lovers of minestrone soup, are looking for a way to escape their work in the circus. One afternoon, while sitting in a puddle of spilt breakfast cereal, they decide to follow their dream and bring cheese to the people of Basingstoke. However, the modern world is difficult. Sometimes, one faces problems that cannot be fixed with a list and a damp cloth. Whether it is cheese-dinosaurs, bakers intent on World Domination, missing hamsters or being locked in a trouser museum, non-adventures are never far away.
But for every problem, there is a solution. And as long as Mr Sproutface and Mr Wibbleton have their jumpers, a bowl of minestrone soup and each other, they will find a way to keep their dream alive. This story is aimed at children between 7 and 11 but there's plenty for adults to enjoy as well.
A small man, wearing a dark blue jumper, was sitting at his kitchen table, eating his breakfast and looking at his watch. For the past few minutes, he had been going through the same routine: a spoonful of cereal, a look at his watch, a spoonful of cereal and another look at his watch. From a distance, he looked like he was playing a slightly milky drum.
“Mr Wibbleton, you are late for breakfast!” shouted the small man eventually.
Another man, in an equally sensible (but purple) jumper, came in to join him. He seemed in some distress.
“Mr Sproutface,” he said, “something bad has happened.”
Mr Sproutface preferred, as a rule, to finish his Rice Krispies before hearing bad news, but he saw the problem at once. “Mr Wibbleton,” he said, “you are mono-socked!” It was true. Mr Wibbleton had a smart blue sock on his right foot but his left was bare. He said nothing.
“Mr Wibbleton, have you been filling your socks with nuts for the pigeons again?” asked Mr Sproutface. Mr Wibbleton shook his head.
“And you haven’t made a new version of Harold the Amazing Sock-Dog?”
"No. Certainly not. Harold is still living with his friend Susan in a cupboard in Yorkshire. He writes to me every Christmas,” replied Mr Wibbleton sadly.
“You do realise, Mr Wibbleton, that we have to be out of the house by nine o’ clock if we are going to get to the East Sussex Museum of Surprisingly Small Furniture,” said Mr Sproutface, looking at his watch again.
“I know. And I really wanted to see their exhibition of deceptively small chairs,” said Mr Wibbleton.
Mr Sproutface decided that dramatic action was required. He grabbed a pen and pencil and began to write. 30 minutes later, the two men had compiled a list.
POSSIBLE LOCATIONS OF MR WIBBLETON’S SOCK
1. Mr Wibbleton's chest of drawers
2. The washing machine
3. The laundry basket
4. Mr Sproutface's chest of drawers
5. (For use only in emergency) Sofa: sides, back and underneath cushions
6. Indonesia (see note a)
7. East Sussex Museum of Surprisingly Small Furniture (see note b)
Notes:
Place where sock was made. Sock may have returned there if homesick
Sock may have gone on ahead on its own, possibly with a view to meeting us there.
“Shall I start with Indonesia?” asked Mr Wibbleton. “If I hurry, I may make it there and back in time for lunch.”
Mr Sproutface thought this unlikely and suggested that they start at the top of the list…
But for every problem, there is a solution. And as long as Mr Sproutface and Mr Wibbleton have their jumpers, a bowl of minestrone soup and each other, they will find a way to keep their dream alive. This story is aimed at children between 7 and 11 but there's plenty for adults to enjoy as well.
A small man, wearing a dark blue jumper, was sitting at his kitchen table, eating his breakfast and looking at his watch. For the past few minutes, he had been going through the same routine: a spoonful of cereal, a look at his watch, a spoonful of cereal and another look at his watch. From a distance, he looked like he was playing a slightly milky drum.
“Mr Wibbleton, you are late for breakfast!” shouted the small man eventually.
Another man, in an equally sensible (but purple) jumper, came in to join him. He seemed in some distress.
“Mr Sproutface,” he said, “something bad has happened.”
Mr Sproutface preferred, as a rule, to finish his Rice Krispies before hearing bad news, but he saw the problem at once. “Mr Wibbleton,” he said, “you are mono-socked!” It was true. Mr Wibbleton had a smart blue sock on his right foot but his left was bare. He said nothing.
“Mr Wibbleton, have you been filling your socks with nuts for the pigeons again?” asked Mr Sproutface. Mr Wibbleton shook his head.
“And you haven’t made a new version of Harold the Amazing Sock-Dog?”
"No. Certainly not. Harold is still living with his friend Susan in a cupboard in Yorkshire. He writes to me every Christmas,” replied Mr Wibbleton sadly.
“You do realise, Mr Wibbleton, that we have to be out of the house by nine o’ clock if we are going to get to the East Sussex Museum of Surprisingly Small Furniture,” said Mr Sproutface, looking at his watch again.
“I know. And I really wanted to see their exhibition of deceptively small chairs,” said Mr Wibbleton.
Mr Sproutface decided that dramatic action was required. He grabbed a pen and pencil and began to write. 30 minutes later, the two men had compiled a list.
POSSIBLE LOCATIONS OF MR WIBBLETON’S SOCK
1. Mr Wibbleton's chest of drawers
2. The washing machine
3. The laundry basket
4. Mr Sproutface's chest of drawers
5. (For use only in emergency) Sofa: sides, back and underneath cushions
6. Indonesia (see note a)
7. East Sussex Museum of Surprisingly Small Furniture (see note b)
Notes:
Place where sock was made. Sock may have returned there if homesick
Sock may have gone on ahead on its own, possibly with a view to meeting us there.
“Shall I start with Indonesia?” asked Mr Wibbleton. “If I hurry, I may make it there and back in time for lunch.”
Mr Sproutface thought this unlikely and suggested that they start at the top of the list…