In which— Oh, but what has happened to Uncle Shawn? He was taken away to be squished and maybe that has already happened! We can hardly look…
Uncle Shawn was inside the Squishing Room!
He was trying not to look at the Squishing Machine, because it was the most terrible and horrible and blood-curdling thing anyone had ever seen. Guard 5555 was polishing its dials and Guard 5557 was adjusting its straps.
Uncle Shawn wanted to hold Bill’s paw and maybe have a hug. He didn’t want to be in this dreadful room, with this dreadful machine.
He really hoped that Bill was coming for him and that everyone else was helping.
“I just have to keep delaying things for as long as possible,” thought Uncle Shawn. He studied 5555 and 5557, and noticed that 5557 had a smear on his boots and 5555’s hat wasn’t straight.
“I will start with that,” he told himself.
Then Uncle Shawn said to 5557, “5555 is tilting his hat Unusually to one side.” He knew that people like 5555 and 5557 wanted everyone and everything to be perfect all the time, but Uncle Shawn also knew that being perfect is impossible. “And 5557 has an Unusual mark on his boot, doesn’t he, 5555? Maybe he was trying to spread jam on his toecap. That would be Very Unusual, wouldn’t it?”
The guards ignored him. But they looked at each other with suspicion as they prepared the great big gargantunormous Squishing Machine.
“Oh, Bill – do be quite quick, please,” thought Uncle Shawn.
Let’s hope Bill gets there soon. Otherwise – SQUISHING! 