And with good reason, too.
“Oh, that hits the spot.”
“Uncle Mulchy!” A pair of slightly chubby toddlers ran over to the dwarf.
“Hey hey hey! How are my two favourite twins?”
“But…we’re the only twins you know..,” Myles astutely pointed out.
As usual, Mulch relied on his ultra-smooth techniques to gloss over the accusation.
“Yes, well, you’re still my favourite.”
Beckett spat out a wad of grass, since they met the dwarf outside, and asked, “Uncle, are you going to fart out the alphabet again? “‘Cause that was funny!”
The mere though of Mulch’s gastrobatics sent Artemis’ brothers into squeals and convulsions.
Mulch may have blushed, but it was difficult to tell, with his beard and all. Never again would he fart the alphabet. Holly sure knew how to use a buzzer…
A tug on his vest brought him back down to Earth.
“Uncle Mulchy? You smell bad. Again,” Myles pointed out, as soon as he regained his breath from laughing.
Beckett peeled himself off of the lush green grass, and announced, “I smell sunblock! And lots of it, too!”
Mulch laughed, and replied, “How would you know, Mud Toddler?”
“‘Cause I ate some! I’d know the smell of it anywhere, and it’s coming from you, Uncle!” Beckett smiled proudly.
Myles rolled his blue eyes skyward, and continued on, ignoring Mulch’s ever-present stench.
“Uncle? Why are you here today? Is Artemis simple-toon too busy with Holly? Did Uncle Butty kick your bum-bum again?”
Beckett had recovered from his moment of glory, and chimed in. “Then what are you going to do?”
Mulch was at a loss for words, until Myles had a brilliant idea.