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The question beckoned to Kelvin like a zeppelin entering a much-tormented
rain cloud. Why would Trill do such a thing? She was no more unhinged than the rest of the close-knit community
of Little Twatting, and she certainly had no motive to carry out such a horrific act to his luminous toad, Luminous
Toad.
He looked around the room for clues. His detective skills were still at a fairly embryonic stage at this point,
and he figured that the direct approach would be most likely to yield results. "Why did she do this to you,
Luminous Toad?", he asked the oozing, disintegrating mass, next to his bed.
"Urgh", replied the mass, formerly Luminous Toad, in a polished Wiltshire accent.
Maybe this was a clue, thought Kelvin, naively. He mused over this for a while, before his attention span denied
him any further progress and turned him swiftly to the attention of the intriguing nature of the mass confronting
him as he sat docile in his bed. He noticed how the green slime of his companion mingled effervescently with the
black sludge that carpeted the remainder of his bedroom floor - filth that had been left by his other companions,
the cockroaches. It seemed to resemble the endless turmoil of life, and the blurring of those distant black relics
of the imagination which tinge the green everyday realities of his monotonous existence. This occupied his thoughts
for a while until abruptly derailed by a more prescient thought. The cockroaches hadn't paid the rent for months.
"I know", grinned the telepathic one in the corner, sitting on the matchbox stuffed with hay and cotton
buds that he called home. He wore a small paper-clip twisted into a coil for a hat.
"One day", thought Kelvin, "that cockroach is going to get his come-uppance".
"Have to catch me first", sneered the cockroach, before diving into a crack in the wall, the result of
Kelvin's over-ambitious, yet substandard plastering.
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