MAISY: Pass the stuffed muskrat, duck. I feel it needs displaying a tad more prominently. It may not be to everyone's taste but these commoners will go wild for it.
DAISY: Surely only posh people are invited to Mrs Fitch-Sandy's Medieval Christmas Fayre.
MAISY: I wouldn't count on it, duck. Isn't that Mrs Weasel's youngest pinching a candy stick from Mrs F-S's Homemade Festive Fancies stall?
DAISY: You're right. After all, the Weasels are weasily recognisable!
MAISY: Really, duck! You think you're so funny. Anyway, we're not exactly holding the doors on this tombola stall. I wouldn't be here at all if Mrs F-S hadn't asked me herself personally. How many prizes have we shifted so far?
DAISY: The Lambrusco, the knitted egg cosies and the Royal Wedding commemorative toast rack have gone but we're still stuck with the muskrat, the Milk Tray and the mounted moose head. Oh, and the port.
MAISY: Ahh! The port! Any port in a storm, duck. That's a joke by the way. Actually, I bought a few tickets. I saw the port, and I port of you! I'm so funny!
DAISY: Well, if you win it you'll have to swig it on the quiet. You don't want Mrs F-S and her upmarket posse seeing you plastered.
MAISY: I'll cart it off home, duck. At least it's port-able! He he he!
DAISY: Crikey, what have you been drinking? I thought there was an extra bottle of booze on our stand. Come on, where's the Asti Martini?
MAISY: I took a few sips of it. Me costume's killing me. I'm not used to medieval attire.
DAISY: Well, I did suggest that the peasant's outfit was easier to...
MAISY: Don't even go there, duck. It was the ladies' regalia or nothing.
DAISY: Nothing might have been novel.
MAISY: Funny, aren't you. I'm off for a sit down. I'll leave you to shift the muskrat.
DAISY: Watch yourself. Don't trip over your skirts.
MAISY: As if. I'll mosey, over to the 'Guess the weight of the Christmas pudding' stall. Mrs Weasel made it so forty tonnes would be a good shot, I think.
DAISY: Look out, your train has caught round the table leg
MAISY: Ahhhh! Oooof!
DAISY: Well, duck. Which is more legless, you or the table?!
(From Ferrets First - December/January 2004/5 - #21)