Jazz-Hands

More of those famous Dalby oranges appearing, and very soon lots of bananas down on the south beach if I’ve anything to do with it.

It’s not as if anyone goes on the beaches except me.

(Or that mad gull to kip on it)

One moment camping is the best, the next sentence she says she’s bored.

There’s no way you’re going to be a Dalby resident if I’ve anything to do with it Apple. Not until a psychiatrist has set up shop first.

Isn’t it amazing how often ‘fun’ = ‘Voirrey gets screwed over royally’?

On the other hand, whenever insects are involved the laws of barter are forever in my favour.

A mosquito is worth 150 Bells. A banana 300 bells. Go figure. It’s not as if they’re rare. Some days they appear in pairs so you catch one only to be bitten by the other.

Why are insects prized so much above all other items? Are they using them to blackmail Blathers with considering his childhood traumas from them?

Perhaps I ought to tell them all they need is a webcam in the dinosaur section and before the week’s out they’ll have enough dirt on him to last a lifetime.

Perhaps best not, if what I’m beginning to wonder about Camofrog and Fauna is anything to go by.

Both of them telling me to be wary of rumours on the same day? Hmmmm, what have you two both been getting up to, what with you living so close to one another on either side of the town hall?

Cookie gave me a playable djimbe drum in return for the butterfly I caught for her. I feel so guilty for my cynicism now.

This led me to giving Saharah a second chance. Which I was to regret.

He asked you to leave. I’m not surprised.

Scrub that, I am surprised.

I’m surprised King Nook did not have you at the least disemboweled with a rusty blade so that swarms of flies could devour your entrails from your still twitching carcass if the Del Boy Trotter redecoration job you gave my home again was anything like the one you gave his, you skeet.

I got a free gift from Sylvia, despite my reservations…

How does one ‘use’ a poinsettia – gently or otherwise?

Moreover, do I really want to know?

She actually said ‘warehouse’ but I bet your morning tea went all over the screen at that one.

A large First Nations phallic symbol? No thanks.

On the other hand, they might get ideas about a wicker man again if I don’t. Decisions, decisions.

I need a break.

It’s the songs that are half the fun of it all, y’know!

Lots of brilliant new items for the musuem or high value resellables – I should do this more often.

Underwater chases for the best items are great fun, even if they more often than not end up with the little skeets escaping beyond the roped off area where they stop mockingly a fraction out of reach. The chambered nautilus can truly go turbo when it wants to (when I’m chasing it).

All too soon, it is time to go home.

Back to another of Kapp’n and his silly sea shanties.

Back to Dalby, back to another official opening and all the rest of what entails daily life in Animal Crossing: New Leaf.

I hope this little series has given you a fun overview of what it’s like playing the game, and perhaps buy it yourselves. I may revisit this again some other time.

I now have a first floor to fill up with junk and feng-shui the keck out of.

My labours have also borne fruit.

The sign of a top class mayor in Animal Crossing: New Leaf is when all the villagers cannot help but stare in awe and say how excited they are by your huge melons hanging from the trees.

The durians have also come up well, although I think they look more an M C Escher creation instead of a tropical fruit.

Elsewhere, another grand opening.

Still shitting my breeches with those poppers. You’d think I’d be used to it by now.

At least Cookie now has her metal bench. She had a new task for me however.

Catches butterfly one minute later, takes to Cookie, gets another lousy t-shirt in return. When will I ever learn?

The tent site is being used again. The new camper is a cow called Victoria.

No, not that cow called Victoria, this cow called Victoria.

Dalby has a space available for a camper to fill, but not impressed with this one, so did not encourage either. We already have Cookie and Maelle filling our diva quota.

Or the likes of Camofrog telling Bones his original catchphrase was crap and telling him to say ‘ten-hut’ instead, which sounded ridiculous on him. Soon put that right with the first thought that came up.

Speaking of Maelle…

Keep up this attitude, duckface, and I’ll be finding a use for those famous Dalby oranges you will take centre stage in – or rather centre shelf in the oven.

Over at the museum at the end of a bug and fossil run, Celeste tried to talk me into taking some rental space to show off the junk I’d rather not show off at home. Eventually I’ll shove all the balloon crap into one. But not today.

There’s times I could almost feel sorry for those dinosaur skeletons and what Blathers might be doing to them when the museum’s empty.

But I try not to think about it – otherwise I have very disturbed sleep at night.

Calling me ‘mon amie’ is the new craze in Dalby. These people really need better entertainment.

But when campers like Apple briefly arrive, you realise that if getting sarcastic looks from Maelle from coming too close with the net when she’s fishing is the worst you have to deal with, maybe the current residents aren’t so bad.

Look at Lucy and Cookie singing away to themselves! Would melt the stoniest of hearts.

Another day, another public works declared open.

I’ll confess to being very pleased with the fountain, one of the nicest improvements you can buy in the game. It looks nice, makes a lovely noise (although if you suffer from incontinence don’t blame me if it sets you off) and I plan to have it surrounded by flowers.

With space all around it, it will make a good spot next to the village square to encourage the growing of flowers and the transportation of the excess elsewhere around Dalby.

Blathers had plans also to tell me.

No prizes for guessing who paid for the whole damn thing, of course.

Mayor Made Of Bells, as per usual.

No sooner do I pay for it, this happens.

Sigh! Every – Single – Time.

The strange part was that Hippeux wasn’t even around when I was forced to become mayor – he arrived much later.

Conspiracy theorists, feast yourselves on that thought!

As for Dalby’s new civil servant in the museum department, her first day did not bode well. After the ceremony to mark the occasion outside the train station (extend museum – have ceremony at train station – go figure), I popped in to see how it looked, only to find her sleeping on the job.

Don’t go applying for a raise with Isabelle any time shortly, Celeste.

On second thoughts, she’s as bad. Have you both considered careers as Wimbledon line judges?

On the subject of dozy civil servants…

…yes Pete, you said that joke a few days ago as well. It wasn’t funny then either.

Do you notice the line of alternating pansies on the riverbank on the far side?

This is one of my pet plans for Dalby. Both riverbanks will have a line of flowers all the way along them from west to east. There’s a mass pansy bank of the white ones down at the west corner of Dalby, but I cannot get enough of the red and yellow ones I require to complete the chain.

The orange ones that are formed from them being close together are being transferred to outside of Cookie’s home with some of the spare white ones.

As well as looking pretty, having flowers at the riverbank discourages me from running near to it in case I run through and destroy any – increasing the chance of spotting a fish needing catching. If you run next to the river, the fish vanish.

Sylvia meanwhile appears determined to become a flea farmer.

Thus in the Dalby edition of the Itch Factor, Sylvia and Bones have been needing de-fleaed thrice, Kevin and Fauna twice, Camofrog and Lucy once. But this is the first time I’ve ever found anyone having fleas twice in one day.

I’ve also never encountered three of the villagers asking me to help them change what they say. Is it a ripple effect where one of them does so and the rest decide it’s time for a change as well?

Lucy meanwhile had a craving for oranges she wanted me to solve despite a fully laden orange tree right outside her front door. Pigging lazy, that’s her trouble.

Or was it brought on by a visit from Hippeux?

The weird part is he doesn’t even use that wallpaper. Perhaps he’s buying them all up for the sake of good taste to stop anyone from using them in their homes?

Oh good. We have a camper already.

Oh God!

No way am I encouraging this Kabuki to stay!

All that needs to happen is for him to run into Kevin or Camofrog in one of their more punchable moods and I shudder to think the result.

Psycho ninja kitties of doom are not what Dalby needs at this juncture.

Another thing we do not need is more fleas. Bones now on his third and Fauna is on her second.

The bizarre part was immediately afterwards, Lucy offered to swap Fauna’s flea for her cabin low table! Three days ago she was horrified to find one on herself.

Logic? Around these parts. Forget it.

As if there wasn’t enough oddity about, Pedobear Weird Badge Dude turned up again.

Backyard gardener. Nope. Doesn’t sound like innuendo in any way. No sirree.

Then came the bombshell.

Too damn right I begged her to stay. Bones along with Cookie and Fauna are the sweetest residents in the town – never a cross word or a bad mood, always out planting flowers or watering.

I thought the villagers were happy. I thought I was building enough public works for them. I thought bringing in new fruits and planting flowers would make them happy.

What was going wrong? Time to ask Isabelle.

It appears nowhere near enough.

Time to go crazy with at least one new public work every day until this wave of residents looking to quit stops.

I hope she’s not hinting to me to slit my wrists!

(No, not Fauna. She’s too much of a sweetie)

To blazes with what will make me happy anyway – what do I have to do to make you lot happier?

Yes the very first fish I fished out of the river was a Gar – worth 6000 Bells. But that was the promise made, the next river catch – and I stuck to it.

Helping Kevin out had the advantage of getting to see the inside of Bone’s home, which is rather like a large playroom. I got an orange for my trouble – probably the same one I posted to him and all the other villagers lately with a letter. I’ve neglected the letter writing a bit, and wonder what effect this may have had on local morale.

The dulling of the weather allows you to see better something I’d not noticed until today. Do you see how brown I have become? If you spend a fair bit of time out during the day planting and fishing, your skin browns, and if you spend too much time inside you get paler. Clever that!

Oh, one more brickbat. Do you remember Camofrog was stung by a con-artist?

I think I know who it was.

Anything you buy from Redd’s Gallery set up in the square (and you are only allowed to buy one item) is posted to you, so by the time you find out it’s a fake, he’s scarpered.

I’d wring his neck the next time he appeared, but never mess with anything that looks less like the fox he is supposed to be and more like the evil Egyptian God of Storms, Plagues, Death, More Death And Even More Death With Sauce And A Flake And General Utter Horribleness.

You never know in this crazy world what you could be really up against.

I’m not cynical. It’s true if I smell flowers indoors, I look around for the coffin lying in state.  But there’s times you can smell a set up, and this one involving Hippeux is a prime example.

This is not a ‘who?’, more of a ‘what?’

This joker was offering me today’s ‘what did you last slave die of?’ moment.

2 inches? 10 inches? The whole 30 centimetres? How far do you think I will be able to shove that clipboard up the saucy little skeet’s rectum?

Wow, you’re not as daft as you look after all.

Trust me, it wouldn’t seem weird for someone like you to go around asking complete strangers if they wanted a club. It wouldn’t be weird after if they clubbed you in response.

Suppose I’d be failing in my duty if I didn’t at least sound out everyone else about it.

Not a single objection. Ever get the feeling you’ve been set up? I swear there’s time I think that Isabelle is the real mayor and I’m the pretend one! Grrr!

Of course, this was an opportunity for Kevin to have one of his enormous ego moments.

It occurs to me I have no idea what sort of club this Shrunk has in mind.

A seedy basement joint. Sounds legit.

For all I know it may be the sort where the patrons will want Kevin to pound something alright, but not nails. I guess I’ll find out soon enough if this sign appears outside it:

There’s probably going to be a huge influx of baby seals to the place, as they love clubbing.

I need a break.

Like the way Kapp’n goes from saying I’m the daring sort to talking about his wife’s stew being really quite a show!

Some more exhibits for Blathers to give a new home to and hopefully not recount any more childhood horrors in the process.

One of these days (as Pink Floyd would have it) I’m going to find something on Tortimer’s Island worth spending those Medals I win on.

One of these days Laila’s going to get one heck of a shock when she discovers the Retail Price Index outside of this island.

One of these days, I’m going to discover what hallucinogen Kapp’n’s wife is putting in her stew…

The villagers have been bugging me all day.

If not for insects, it’s wanting me to come and see their houses.

Oh I’m afraid alright Camofrog.

My opinion? I think I remember a house like this in Half-Life 2, filled with poison headcrabs.

As if that wasn’t bad enough, afterwards he invited himself over to my house! Half an hour valuable harvesting time wasted.

Pete the Post Office Pelican has been friendly of late, stopping for a chat. Come to that, I’ve never saw him out and about this late. Hmmmm.

Don’t give up the day job for comedy Pete.

Here was something novel. Someone dropped a bag, and I had to wander around to find the villager it belonged to. Of course, I had to ask everyone in town before I found the correct one – which happened to be my nearest neighbour Hippeax.

I also caught by far my biggest butterfly ever. Shortly after I caught a second, which found pride of place next to my bed.

Cookie fully approves of the new Bells ordinance. Not as much as I do. Using political position in order to line my own pockets – oh, the shamelessness of it.

That’s Bones joining Kevin in needing de-fleaed twice, Camofrog, Fauna, Lucy and now Sylvia once,

Poor Sylvia was not having a good day. First the flea, and next discovering her favourite magazine had folded.

Lunar Curling. It must be an Australian sort of thing, like their version of football. Typical Aussies, always have to make their sports extreme.

Hmmm, I didn’t the Australians ever make it into space?

Feeling sorry for her, I invited her over. Yes, I know, after all I said earlier!

Look I know my house is taarey. But the balloon furnishing makes for easy Feng Shui points as they are treated as being green, yellow or red. Until I can get some good matching stuff it’s a case of make do.

In today’s ‘what did your last slave die of’ moment, Fauna and later Kevin asked me to return items they’d borrowed from Maelle, which I did before heading home for the night.

Not so sure about Maelle’s moot about good manners. Look where it got me with Camofrog.

This is the same Camofrog who the day before was saying they were all about the kindness and being a man of the people. Freaking schizo skeet.

It’s been a day of some changes, the new campsite and the reopening of the Nook’s shop.

The Nooks shop has expanded – for all the use of it. It has now on sale lots more of the tools I already have and do not need, and three pieces of furniture a day instead of one, none of which match anything I have.

What really gets me grigged is wrapping paper. Unlike writing paper, it comes in individual sheets, which means labouriously having to buy it sheet by sheet – and every time you buy it, Tommy Nook asks you do I want to be taught how to use it.

EVERY – BLOODY – TIME.

I have to admit to being very happy about the opening of the campsite on the west side of Dalby.

Let’s see what newbies it may bring.

Hey ho, after Tortimer’s Island back to the humdrum world of being Mayor of Dalby.

I think any sort of town that is a little less zombie would be an improvement (unless everyone in the town likes The Vapors).

Or maybe Maelle’s simply telling me to go to bed after my umpteeth trip to the museum giving them lots of goodies from Tortimer’s Island.

I issued my first ordinance, increasing Bell production. As most of my time is spent harvesting, fishing or catching bugs for sale to build improvements, this is a no-brainer.

I really don’t need to hear about Blather’s necrophiliac tendencies. Whatever your thoughts are starting to race about, keep it under your tank top, owl features.

The dinosaur collection is looking pretty respectable at last. An archelon, a spinosaurus, a tricerotops and a stegosaurus (my favourite dinosaur) are all complete. Should keep Camofrog happy.

Oh, the temptation to say what I really thought! But I’m not that horrible.

This was all rather sudden. I stocked up on writing paper and gift wrapping paper just in case it took a week.

Sigh!

And yes, I fell for it again.

Blame me for the hippo with the French sounding name being made to speak like a character from a bad BBC Jimmy Perry and David Croft comedy.

Any day soon, he will see the flashing knobs – perhaps Blathers in an unguarded moment with that Spinosaurus.

If there is a visitor to Dalby to avoid, this is the one:

Yes, the old carpet and wallpaper were back up again tout suite!

That camel gave me the hump, being to interior design what rabies was for the European tourist industry.

Saharah is also  the first transsexual I’ve encountered in this loony bin – supposedly a female but with a male voice.

There came a bit of a shock shortly after this farrago.

I asked Kevin to reconsider, much to my surprise. Yeah, he’s got an ego so big it has moons orbiting it, but he’s nice enough, gets on with the others, and does his share of watering the flowers (even if he’s not fond of them).

Better the loonies you know.

Another outbreak of the fleas, with Camofrog and new arrival Lucy being tasty bites for the itchy little bloodsuckers.

That’s Fauna, Bones, Camofrog and Lucy having fleas once, Kevin twice,

Wasn’t Hippeux the one that rejected an orange a few days back?

Orangeade: I suppose it’s as close to getting him to take his five-a-day as I’m ever likely to get.

Notice Sylvia and Maelle singing the town turn after I did Sylvia a good turn? This is when you know you’re doing it right.

If a villager asks to copy what another villager is calling me, I roll with it. It’s no big deal.

Asking for a new catchphrase however I’ll only do if they ask specifically for a new one. If they merely ask if I think they ought to change it (usually because another villager has said to them their catchphrase is crap) I tell them to keep it.

There’s more important matters to think about, such as where to put the new campsite.

What a tiswas that was, trying to find somewhere in Dalby it could be put. Eventually it ended up close to Bones and Cookie’s homes in the centre left section of the village.

Guess who paid for all of it too? I don’t think the residents have chipped in a single bell for any of the projects to date.

It’s all for a good cause – campers can appear and if any are suitable they can be invited to become residents. Now Dalby is capped at nine residents, the only extra will be one of my choosing.

What’s going to be appearing behind the tarpaulins surrounding Nookling Junction right now however is anyone’s guess. As mayor, I’m always the last to know it appears.

Decided it was time to check out Tortimer’s Island. I suspect it’s a tax haven for those raccoons, lambchop features and the turnip seller set up by that turtle that used to be mayor.

No wonder Dalby was such a mess when I arrived when those in charge have been too busy setting up offshore banking fiddles.

Overpay their taxes? Yeah, sure. Funny how taxes came up in our first conversation together. I’ve got your number, matey!

Never mind, at least he’s not charging me for the boat trip.

Spoke too soon. The only thing you get around these parts for free are mosquito bites, and I expect the Nooks to nationalise them any day now and every time you are bitten by them having you charged for the ‘service’.

I think Kapp’n used to write songs for Björk.

Great. I’m being hit on by a mad frog.

It’s like being in Paris, except less slimy and not smelling of onions. No, wait a moment, I’m getting Paris mixed up with Blackpool during the tourist season. Easy mistake to make.

Relaxing is about the only thing you cannot do around here.

Leila is the child of someone around here, and ‘playing supermarket’ means she buys items from you for a fraction of what they are worth.

It’s useful to get some extra pennies for items such as shells that there is no point hauling back home at the expense of items that will sell for more at Re-tail (eg. the smallest fish!). I hoped playing with Leila this way might gain me some advantages around here, but this doesn’t appear to be the case.

You can get a wetsuit from the friendly gyroid as you leave the reception hall and enter the island proper to do some swimming and see if you can dive and catch anything underwater (you will have to do a bit of chasing underwater most times, so try to dive as close as possible.

It’s a great place to find lots of new creatures for the museum, for display at home, or to sell.

Watch out for the jelly fish when swimming – they sting!

The major activity on Tortimer’s Island is going on one of the many tours – which involves a fishing, bug catching, fossil digging or balloon popping game with a limited time to achieve a target in order to win medals to spend elsewhere.

You speak to Leilani at the front desk, pick a tour, and she will tell you to go and take a seat in the waiting area, whereupon shortly after you are transported to the tour site – a new land much bigger than Tortimer Island and roughly the same size as one a village is based in.

In some games it’s a perfect opportunity to acquire new fruits, flowers or catch bugs to take back, but watch out for games where you are only allowed to bring back set items to Tortimer (he puts on his stern face when warning you of this), or you will be disqualified and end up with nothing but a wasted five minutes.

There’s plenty of new goodies to be found on Tortimer Island proper. Apart from the diving, the shells sometimes offer hermit crabs or wharf roaches (the latter aren’t worth much when sold), and the fishing seldom disappoints.

Now swimming around happily in the Dalby Museum aquarium.

Once your basket is filled with items you want to take back home, you may as well head back – always with a lingering sense of sadness at leaving the island with its distinctive Hawaiian guitar and xylophone theme tune behind.

Sigh! I’ll miss Tortimer Island. But Kapp’n’s silly songs somehow take away the sting of leaving.

Besides, I can always come back another day…

New arrivals in more ways than one. All those oranges I planted have finally borne fruit as the trees from them come to triple my return. There’s also a new arrival due called Lucy down in the south-east corner of Dalby.

I’ve sent everyone a letter with one contained letting them know they’ve no excuse not getting their five-a-day now.

You’re lucky I haven’t shoved that rook up your backside, Camofrog.

What makes it even more bizarre that he offered to sell me the rook afterwards.

He was right about good things coming to those who wait.  125 Bells per turnip make for a very nice return of 30 Bells each after buying them for 95 Bells a few days earlier.

Isabelle has been nagging me to meet the former mayor down at the docks. After putting it off because it sounded a bit too mafia for my liking, I decided to find out what it was all about, Alfie.

Great. If it all goes wrong, there’s an escape craft. Or is this a Napoleon set-up where crap mayors are sent to exile in an Elba?

Will check out in due course.

Fauna has become the latest victim of fleas. Poor Fauna. She was too embarrassed to take around a parcel the post office had delivered to her instead of Sylvia. Under the circumstances, I agreed to deliver it to the correct addressee.

Are the fleas being spread by the Dalby post office delivery service? It wouldn’t surprise me if that moth eaten old hag Phyllis is riddled with them.

Pretty near looking home Sylvia’s got.

Changed the town tune a little bit – all I did was take out the random notes from it.

This is the jokes, folks. Don’t like sharks, likes hammerheads and saw-sharks. Duck logic!

Hippeux doesn’t seem to have grasped that oranges are for eating, not fashion accessories. Sigh! I bought it from him and planted it near my home.

Another day, another ‘piddling 198 000 Bells’ loan paid off to Tom ‘Del Boy’ Nook.

Sylvia developed an obsession with arowanas and begged me to catch one for her. They’re worth 10 000 Bells. I must have been mad, but I did it and gave her what she wanted. Keep the villagers happy is my motto.

Found this drunk gull in a sailor outfit lying drunk on the beach.

Gave up trying to wake him up in the end. With any luck the tide will wash him back out to sea.

New neighbour, another pig. Here’s hoping she’s not got an ego as big as Kevin’s – I don’t think Dalby could cope.

More rain.

Best part of rain: what bugs there are to catch on the trees aren’t very alert.

If what Sylvia’s saying is true, why does Paddington Bear always wear raingear?

(Other than he’s probably one of those rubber perverts. There’s a lot of it about in Darkest Peru, you know. They must have a lot of English style Public Schools).

Sylvia asked me to deliver a parcel to Bones.

Red warm-up suits smell of creamed corn. Today’s factoid brought to you by Bones.

You also get some odd fish in the rain. Or maybe this one simply got lost.

Camofrog got stung for a painting I knew was going to be a Sexton Blake before I’d even offered to take it off his hands – confirmed by Blathers. Will have to look out for this fox character.

No sooner paid off one house loan, Tom Nook has suckered me into another. When will I learn?

Curse you nefarious raccoon and your tempting space extensions.

Lucky I’ve got a regular harvest and catch routine to get the money in.

Which as I suspected was the Nooks and Lambchop face’s plan all along.

One day…

I hope you get that smirk wiped off your face with your Turnip values in the week’s Stalk Market.

Come to think of it, maybe that’s what happened to everyone here. They all lost a fortune and have conned me into rebuilding their lost wealth: just like the banks and governments do when they lose all their money and expect everyone else to pay for it.

Ugh! I need to be less paranoid.

I’ll bet you’re happiest when you’re walking about town and happen upon a flower starting to bloom. You’re probably thinking ‘KA-CHING!’ Is everyone in Dalby a bourgeoise capitalist oppressor of the masses?

The new shop turned out to be a limited gardening shop, selling two flowers, one tree and one different tool per day. The flowers will come in handy, and the tools, but he can keep the trees. That’s what harvesting the oranges are for.

I gave Maelle help with a new greeting. Yes, predictably corny, but whatever. Dalby runs on puns.

Notice sarcastic face with Kevin. Whatever the answer, he gets annoyed. The correct answer is of course ‘depends whether there’s any bees behind me!’

I water all the flowers in Dalby once a day. No point relying on the villagers. Many of them do water, but it doesn’t appear to be with any pattern to it, and I want this place blooming.

Memo to myself: everyone’s house at the front and sides to get flowers. Three each side, in a two colour pattern. Create a large bunch of identical types of flowers so they multiply fast, and transfer to homes once enough are ready so that it will still leave plenty behind to multiply elsewhere.

Em, a dildo bush?

When Cookie finally realises what I said, I hope it doesn’t affect my citizen satisfaction rating.

Of course, if she’s asking questions like this she’s probably going to be too stoned to remember what she asked anyway, never mind what I replied.

Maybe the Nooks are touting cough medicine to the villagers under the counter. Would explain a lot.

Although the rain stopped later, there were still more gyroids to dig up. I’m becoming slightly obsessed with them, and determined to get a set.

Sounds legit.

It comes with experience.

Anyone with a double chin, pebble glasses and a scoutmaster’s uniform in this day and age is suspect. Or a cosplayer, and you’re a bit old for that.

Allow me to kick your gonads.

Oh. He did have badges to give. A fish badge. Colour me guilty.

But if he asks me next if I like fishsticks, that shovel is going to come in handy.

Kevin is still being plagued with fleas. He’s stealing my bacon jokes as well, the swine.

(Sorry!)

Blathers, seriously, get help.

Or get yourself some new material.

Is there anyone around here going to be normal today?

This makes the day all worth it.

Hippeux has got such class. Look at his home – it’s beautiful! From the wallpaper and carpet right down to all the belongings he has – jealous doesn’t begin to describe it.

Having him as my next door neighbour doesn’t seem so bad after all. Now I just have to hope the other villagers don’t send him screaming for the first train out.