The Abominaballs

Part 3

"Master, must you keep playing with your ding-a-ling?" enquired Cleo, the serving girl pacing the cold stone floor of the cell in agitation as she addressed the old man sitting cross-legged upon the pile of straw.

"I enjoy giving my old instrument a good rub, Cleo - it relaxes me!" confessed the Chronolord, "See how shiny the end is, eh? Now, how would you like to give it a quick toss?"

"Very well, master!" agreed the Egyptian, accepting the solid, sturdy shaft emerging from between the old man's legs in her soft, slender hands, stroking its smooth surface, "But I really think we ought to be looking for a way out of this cell!"

"Don't worry, we'll be taken to see the abbot soon!" explained the Doctor, grinning as the girl gave the brass bell a good shake, enjoying the peaceful peal it produced, "The monks are men of much compassion, you see - they're not in the habit of keeping prisoners!"

"Will the monks be grateful you have brought back their bell, master?" enquired Cleo.

"Oh yes, I'm sure their evenings will just fly by once they've got their hands on the old brass and given it a good shake!" beamed the Doctor, "At the very least, it's bound to take their minds off pumping organs and blowing horns..."

"But the monks have not proved very hospitable so far!" observed Cleo, "They would not listen to your explanation as to how we came across the body upon the mountain, master - instead they sealed us inside this cramped, cold cell!"

"Well, normally I don't mind squeezing into dark, damp holes!" revealed the Doctor, "But I've a nasty feeling that being stuck inside this cell isn't going to do my arthritis any good, it makes me stiff - though sadly not where it matters most! Anyway, if you're cold, you should have put a few more Hima-layers on like I did! Here, slip inside my fur coat to warm yourself up a bit!"

The serving girl settled the Holy Dong upon the straw before seating herself next to the Chronolord; covering herself up beneath the soft, warm item of apparel that was partly responsible for the predicament the pair presently found themselves in...

*   *   *

"Help m'boab, look at yon great hairy beastie's great hairy bawbags! Och, Ah hope it disnae hae matin' on its mind, sae Ah dae!" groaned Jaime, edging cautiously away from the advancing horror; soon she had backed into a solid, somewhat out of place wooden beam seemingly supporting the ceiling of the cave.

"What are those great big lumps between its legs?" enquired Godric, munching on a bar of mint cake his companion had produced from inside her sporran; the Scots girl hoping to silence the Aldreerian's incessant prattling.

"It's yon beastie's knackersack!" hissed Jaime, eyeing the enormous, hairy, pendulous pods dangling between the creature's legs like a pair of outsized plums, "Ainly it seems tae be all balls an' nae boner! Noo shut it, ye wee bampot - Ah need tae think o' a way oot o' this hole, afore yon beastie finds a way intae mah hole!"

As the beast approached the beam, unleashing an almighty roar amplified by the cramped confines of the cave, Jaime realised their only hope was to cause the ceiling to collapse upon the creature; immediately the Scots girl seized Godric by the back of the neck, slamming the youth's skull squarely into the upright support. Her action had the desired effect, as the roof of the cave came crashing down upon the howling beast's head; burying it beneath a mound of rubble.