Prince Toby has started his own diary for National Novel Writing Month. You can follow his adventures here.
Thursday 17th November 2022
Weight: 1301g (1g weight gain for being angelic), cucumber consumption: 3½ slices (I have been ever such a good boy today), escape attempts: 5 (a muted attempt to get to Australia today because I was being good), interruption of Very Important Human Tasks for No Reason Whatsoever: 5 (did I mention how good I’ve been?), interruption of Very Important Human Tasks for Toilet-Related or Other Emergencies: 2 (and they were only little ones – absolute angel that I am!!)
7.50 am: Lie in this morning after dreadful ordeal of yesterday. Hurrah!
8.07 am: Human No. 1 is walking around in a daze, talking to herself. Think she needs some caffeine.
8.09 am: Think I need some caffeine too. Back to sleep for a bit, methinks.
9.40 am: Human No. 1 woke me up whilst foraging for more caffeine. Think it’s going to be one of those days . . .
9.59 am: Human No. 1 is teaching a book called Ship It by Britta Lundin today. She is going to be talking about something called queerbaiting. Not really sure what this is but, apparently, they do it in BBC Sherlock series a lot so, as a newly minted Sherlock Holmes scholar, I should probably do some research on that.
10.15 am: Think I’ll have a look at Ship It first though.
10.45 am: Ooooh! The main character is going to something called comic con. What is comic con and when can I go?
11.00 am: Learning all about fan fiction. Wonder if what I’m doing with Sherlock Tobes is fan fiction?
11.15 am: Now wondering if Sherlock Tobes might actually be in love with Dr Tortson. Or Tortiarty. Think he’s probably in love with Tortiarty. They have more in common.
11.21 am: Although Dr Tortson is a loyal companion.
11.22 am: But then he did abandon Sherlock Tobes when he was in mortal peril to go and meet that random Old English tort whom he didn’t even know.
11.23 am: Hmmm. Tricky one . . .
11.25 am: Perhaps I should rewrite ‘The Final Cucumber’ as Richard-Curtis-style rom-com where, through a series of hilarious misunderstandings, Sherlock Tobes and Tortiarty think that they are mortal enemies but actually discover that they are soulmates and get married and live happily ever after.
11.30 am: That’s not queerbaiting because I have followed through on queer subtext and not just used it to pull in LGBTQ audience and then deny them what I have promised. Hurrah!
11.32 am: Hmmm. But is it queerbaiting if I put forward this wonderful alternative reality but then don’t actually write the story?
11.37 am: This is all very complex.
11.40 am: Think I had better write the story.
Prince Toby Presents
Sherlock Tobes and Professor Tortiarty (who are actually in love and are going to get married and live happily ever after) in
‘The Final Final Cucumber’
Greetings, comrades. Professor Tortiarty here. Thought we should break with that tired old tradition of Dr Tortson narrating Sherlock Tobes’s adventures because he’s a bit dull and, also, he couldn’t possibly know what actually happened at the waterfall because he’d bogged off to rush to the bedside of some random Old English tort who didn’t even exist because I invented the whole scenario to lure Dr Tortson away from his beloved Sherlock Tobes. Haha! Aren’t I clever?
Anyway, I had been trying to kill Sherlock Tobes all week (because he had finished the crossword that I had actually nearly finished and was definitely coming back to) when he got all huffy about it and decided to flounce off on holiday to the Continent with Dr Tortson. Think he was trying to make me jealous. Well, it didn’t work.
So off I went to the Continent, following Tobes and Tortson here, there and everywhere, not sleeping, not eating, not letting them out of my sight, until they came to a rather sinister-looking waterfall in Switzerland. Tortson looked as if he was thinking about asking Tobes to go on a nice romantic picnic with him and I wasn’t having that, so I accosted a little Swiss tort who happened to be crawling through the bush that I was hiding in (no, not hiding, but lurking with sinister intent, you understand) and gave him the note to pass on to Dr Tortson.
‘But he’s right there,’ the Swiss tort said, waving his claw at Dr Tortson, who was standing about five Galapagos tortoise lengths away from us at the edge of the waterfall. I’ll admit, I did consider pushing Dr Tortson over the edge of the waterfall, and the nosy Swiss tort along with him, but I don’t think Tobes would have been too happy with me if I had, so I settled for a mild threat instead.
‘Look, just take it over there right now, or I’ll bite your tail off and eat it in front of you,’ I said with a polite smile.
Needless to say, Dr Tortson got his message and rushed off to help a perfect stranger at the say so of another perfect stranger. Really, I don’t know why Tobes bothers with such a dim-witted companion.
So, anyway, once Tortson had bogged off, I revealed myself to Tobes.
‘Ah, Tortiarty,’ he said with a dramatic wave of his claw. ‘We meet again.’ (Honestly, he’s such a drama tort).
‘Well, yes,’ I said. ‘I’ve been five Galapagos tortoise lengths behind you for the whole trip. You must have seen me.’
‘Well, yes, perhaps,’ he admitted. ‘But you are my sworn enemy since the incident of the final cucumber.’
‘The what?’ I asked him, eyes wide.
‘The final cucumber,’ he insisted. ‘The one from Mr McGregor’s garden that you stole from me several times?’
‘I stole it from you?’ I asked, mouth agape.
‘Yes,’ he said. ‘It was by far the most dastardly thing you have ever done in your long and dastardly life.’
I rolled my eyes at him. ‘I didn’t steal it from you,’ I said with a sigh. ‘I was trying to throw it out.’
‘Throw it out? Whatever for?’
‘It was starting to smell. You’d been hanging onto it for weeks.’
‘I was saving it,’ he said sulkily. (If tortoises could pout, he would have been pouting right then.)
‘It would have given you the collywobbles. You know how delicate your stomach is,’ I reminded him.
He nodded at that. ‘Hang on. If you didn’t steal the cucumber from me, why were you avoiding me?’
I looked down at my claws. ‘The crossword,’ I mumbled.
‘The crossword?’ Tobes asked. ‘What crossword?’
Honestly, he can be so oblivious sometimes. ‘Four down,’ I said. ‘Creeping vine plant, beloved of torts (8).’
‘Cucumber,’ he said smugly.
‘Yes, I know it’s cucumber,’ I hissed. ‘But you filled it in before I had chance to finish it myself. It was the final clue. The final cucumber!’
‘Oh, well, sorry old chum,’ he said and actually sounded as if he meant it (which is very rare for Tobes).
‘That’s okay,’ I said, wondering if I might have blown the whole thing a little out of proportion.
‘Well, to make it up to you, how about we elope to Switzerland?’
‘We’re already in Switzerland,’ I pointed out.
‘Oh, yes. Well, how about Italy then?’
‘Yes, I suppose that would do,’ I said.
‘Excellent,’ he said, rubbing his claws together. ‘I’ll just go and get Dr Tortson and we’ll be on our way.’
Hmmm. Well, I wasn’t having that!
‘Why don’t you go back to the hotel and pack?’ I suggested. ‘I’ll leave a note here for Dr Tortson explaining where we’re going and he can catch up with us.’
‘Well, if you’re sure,’ said Tobes and off he trotted.
And then I left a nice little letter for Tortson to find when he got back from seeing the definitely-not-made-up Old English Tort.
And then we went to Italy and got married and lived happily ever after. Hurrah!
THE END.
2.45 pm: Hurrah! That’s a much better ending!
3.00 pm: Human No. 1 has just told me that super-duper amazing author Marcus Sedgwick has died. She has been going to some super-duper online workshops that he was teaching and he was very kind and generous and encouraging and brilliant. She is very sad and I am very sad and we are going to read some Marcus Sedgwick books together to remember him by. You should all read some too because his writing is magical and brilliant. Just like him.
3.01 pm: Am going to be especially good for the rest of the day. Will stop digging and have snooze.
5.35 pm: Have just had some lovely cucumber as a reward for being so good this afternoon.
6.00 pm: Getting ready for tonight’s excellent Tortmaster task.
6.04 pm: Don't post it below. Post it on Twitter.
6.11 pm: Are you ready? Look out for it on Twitter in the first break of Taskmaster tonight. Can’t wait to see your entries! I expect to sleep well tonight (or be too excited to sleep at all from all the thrilling bedtime stories).
7.01 pm: Will just have a little pre-Tortmaster snooze ready for later . . .
You can follow Prince Toby on Twitter @PrinceTobyTort (and Instagram, but he has no idea what he's doing there). Also, play Tortmaster on Twitter! The prize task is now open! Look out for a new task every Thursday night during the first break of Taskmaster.
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