He spoke with a voice like a rubber band, and his words left you feeling like you had just been roughly swabbed in the ears. Arthur turned towards Peralopolies, with his hands tightly clasping the handle of the Returnotronic Contraptionarium, the sequence had already started and the cat mewed softly in the corner.
It was at exactly this moment that Mrs Slefton entered the room, carrying with her a tray, which held: a teapot, four cups, a plate of digestive biscuits, and also the fate of the entire universe. “Cup of tea Arthur?”, asked Mrs Slefton, “No”, said Arthur, all the while retaining pressure on the Returnotronic’s trigger-tooth, ‘Ok love, there’s a plate of biccies on there as well if you feel peckish.”
Peckish was the last thing Arthur felt, and Mrs Slefton’s choice of words sent a spasm of hot pain through the place that Arthur’s eyes used to be, reminding him of the moment Mrs Slefton’s budgie ripped his retinas out during breakfast. “Peckish.” he thought, “She’s a cruel woman.”
Peralopolies stared blankly at this short interaction between the two humans, then removed his pants, with a practiced skill of one who is used to such things. The cat was now mewing at close to the optimum frequency and Peralopolies reached out into the void pool and tasted the milk, it was warm.