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The Earl Grey Enterprise
Visit the “A Bedtime Story” show website to submit your story ideas for a future episode!
Old Archibald Buttercup, the grumpiest wizard in the whole of Whisperwood, loved his morning tea. It was the one quiet, predictable joy in his otherwise chaotic magical life. One blustery Tuesday, attempting a difficult charm to un-wrinkle his socks (a never-ending battle), he sneezed mid-incantation. A flash of emerald light, a puff of lavender smoke, and suddenly, his favorite floral teacup began to hum. Then, it floated.
“Greetings, Earthling!” a tiny, tinny voice chirped from the teacup’s handle. “Designation: Earl Grey Enterprise. Ready for interstellar exploration!”
Archibald spluttered, nearly choking on his scone. “Interstellar what now? You’re a teacup! A very rude teacup, at that.”
“Correction: I was a teacup. Now I’m a vessel of infinite possibility! Destination: The Glumph Nebula! Prepare for warp!” Before Archibald could protest, the Earl Grey Enterprise zipped out of his window, dragging him by his dressing gown, which had somehow snagged on the handle.
Their first stop was a planet made entirely of wobbly jelly, inhabited by giggling, gelatinous blobs who communicated by boinging. “This is preposterous!” Archibald muttered, his pointed hat wobbling precariously. “Can we not visit a planet with, say, a decent library?”
“Negative, Grumpy Gazer,” the teacup replied, zipping past a boinging blob the size of a small house. “The universe demands silliness!”
They encountered a star made of cotton candy, a moon that sang opera, and a black hole that politely offered them biscuits. Archibald, despite his constant complaining, found himself chuckling more than he had in decades. He even started to enjoy the zero-gravity acrobatics required to avoid rogue comets (which turned out to be just very large, sparkly dust bunnies).
One evening, soaring past a nebula that looked suspiciously like a cosmic knitted jumper, Archibald sighed contentedly. “You know, Earl Grey Enterprise,” he mused, “this isn’t so bad. But for our next adventure, can we please find a planet with proper biscuits? These space rations are dreadful.”
“Acknowledged, Captain Grumpy!” the teacup chirped, and plotted a new course. Archibald, for the first time in years, smiled. Maybe being an interstellar wizard, even an unwilling one, wasn’t so bad after all.
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By Matthew MitchellVisit the “A Bedtime Story” show website to submit your story ideas for a future episode!
Old Archibald Buttercup, the grumpiest wizard in the whole of Whisperwood, loved his morning tea. It was the one quiet, predictable joy in his otherwise chaotic magical life. One blustery Tuesday, attempting a difficult charm to un-wrinkle his socks (a never-ending battle), he sneezed mid-incantation. A flash of emerald light, a puff of lavender smoke, and suddenly, his favorite floral teacup began to hum. Then, it floated.
“Greetings, Earthling!” a tiny, tinny voice chirped from the teacup’s handle. “Designation: Earl Grey Enterprise. Ready for interstellar exploration!”
Archibald spluttered, nearly choking on his scone. “Interstellar what now? You’re a teacup! A very rude teacup, at that.”
“Correction: I was a teacup. Now I’m a vessel of infinite possibility! Destination: The Glumph Nebula! Prepare for warp!” Before Archibald could protest, the Earl Grey Enterprise zipped out of his window, dragging him by his dressing gown, which had somehow snagged on the handle.
Their first stop was a planet made entirely of wobbly jelly, inhabited by giggling, gelatinous blobs who communicated by boinging. “This is preposterous!” Archibald muttered, his pointed hat wobbling precariously. “Can we not visit a planet with, say, a decent library?”
“Negative, Grumpy Gazer,” the teacup replied, zipping past a boinging blob the size of a small house. “The universe demands silliness!”
They encountered a star made of cotton candy, a moon that sang opera, and a black hole that politely offered them biscuits. Archibald, despite his constant complaining, found himself chuckling more than he had in decades. He even started to enjoy the zero-gravity acrobatics required to avoid rogue comets (which turned out to be just very large, sparkly dust bunnies).
One evening, soaring past a nebula that looked suspiciously like a cosmic knitted jumper, Archibald sighed contentedly. “You know, Earl Grey Enterprise,” he mused, “this isn’t so bad. But for our next adventure, can we please find a planet with proper biscuits? These space rations are dreadful.”
“Acknowledged, Captain Grumpy!” the teacup chirped, and plotted a new course. Archibald, for the first time in years, smiled. Maybe being an interstellar wizard, even an unwilling one, wasn’t so bad after all.