ESCARGROSS.
The priests gaped, somewhat shocked, usually hearing the voice of god was somewhat less literal in their personal experience, and they sure as hell never got a thank you for the offerings usually. They vowed to use some of the donation money to pick up biscuits whenever they got the chance. Meanwhile, the Princesses hopping rampage continued unabated. After about half an hour, she slowly started to calm down; a hyper can only carry you so far after all. But her legs showed no signs of fatigue; maybe the blessing wasn’t in need of their bluff after all. The princess at least seemed delighted by it, and Princess Elvira seemed fairly amused. but now the priests had a dilemma, they had thus far avoided confirming or denying the Princesses status as a Saintess, but now it seemed there wasn’t really an option. Priestess Shuns gave a sigh; this was going to mean paperwork, so much paperwork she could barely conceal her shudder at the thought. But on the plus side, it would definitely mean more worshippers and the money that came with that. The main temples could use that to reclaim the expense of construction. (Not that they would tell Mayor Pyncher that, of course, having a mayor owe you a favour was always a welcome thing and an ever present help in times of trouble.)
************************************************************************
Colonel Mustard (ret) was in a mixed mood today; on the one hand, he was getting so much rain lately right where he needed it, on the other hand, keeping worshippers out of his Petunias was starting to get aggravating, he’d set up a tin of course to cover the costs of all those biccies, but the sheer number of trips required was starting to get aggravating. He really was at his wit’s end.
Then an Angel descended unto the garden (not literally, but in the Colonel’s opinion, it was close enough.) In the form of Mrs Beaton, bearing with her a tray of cream puffs.
In his opinion, she truly was a vision of loveliness, proving once and for all that beauty was in the eye of the beholder (and the Colonel (ret) was more than happy to behold.)
“You looked somewhat flustered, Colonel, and looking at this, I can quite see why; perhaps I can be of assistance?”
Crisis of faith suddenly resolved. The Colonel was quite happy to consider it. “Oh, thank you, maybe we could discuss it over tea and cream puffs?”
“My dear Colonel, I would be delighted.” She simpered, offering the coveted cream puffs and her company in one fell swoop.
An offer like that The Colonel could never refuse, and thus over tea and cream puffs, Wannashowa gained a new Priestess, and a widow and widower gained a companion, and life went on.
The narrative has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the infringement.
************************************************************************
When Mibbet returned to the wagon, she noticed something; it seemed the curse of the googly eyes had struck again. Where the hell Elvira kept her constant supply of novelty googly eyes was a constant mystery to her. Now the wagon stared at her (sort of). Normal-sized googly eyes she could understand; maybe Elvira kept them in a pocket or something, but this? THESE WERE TO SCALE WITH THE WAGON. Where on earth did she keep the bloody things? Did she have somebody make them here? How? Also, Elvira was with her the entire time? Mibbet stared at Elvira. The wagon (sort of) stared at Mibbet. Meanwhile, Spikey, the motivational pike, just rolled his eyes at the scene from his vantage on Elvira’s shoulder.
Elvira, of course, just smirked; she’d never tell; after all, where was the fun in that? Let em wonder. After a little time and yet another (constantly interrupted by act of cat) game of chess, lunch was served.
The kitchen soon delivered a set of covered dishes (there had been a bit of a scramble to acquire those, of course, as you can no doubt imagine there was seldom many calls for those in a town the size of Podunk)
Mibbet glared at her plate; what had they called it Escargot? She had a bowl full of snails; who ate snails? Why? They were just gentrified slugs, and no self-respecting frog ate a slug; it went right through you. Escargot, they said? Escargross was more like it. She carefully ate around that. The next dish was more to her liking; the locals must have heard the rumour that the princess ate crickets because alongside the other attempts at a poshified meal was a heaping bowl of fried CRICKETS. She dug in, ignoring the horrified looks from her guards, until Errol, being the adventurous sort when it came to cuisine, gingerly picked one up and popped it into his mouth, taking a moment to hesitate before his expression morphed into one of enjoyment.
Soon enough, the locals, always keen to try something new (being poor did somewhat limit one’s food options sometimes,) figured if it was good enough for a crown princess, then it was good enough for them as well. From there, the word spread and others joined in, eventually resulting in the entire town participating in the entomological feast. She heard the word Humble again a few times; apparently, eating with the peasants was considered an act of humility. It was clear she was gaining something of a reputation around here, especially when The Princess stated that she would love this dish for the royal table. Though there was some confusion as to why the princess avoided the Escargot (Which somehow had a reputation as a posh food, why snail was considered a luxury, while other bugs were treated otherwise was mystifying to her.) Thinking on her feet, Mibbet stated that as the High Priestess and a Saintess, the food was taboo to her. (She really hoped that her newfound Frog God would not mind this, but there was Escar-no way in hell any self-respecting frog was going to eat snail, a fate she would avoid at all costs, and she figured if he had froggy taste buds or for that matter a froggy digestive system he would quite understand why.)