by Laura Bernardeschi Nelson
Inside the Great Stone Den, the air was not something you breathed but something you swallowed. It was a thick, stagnant broth of damp paper and the sour scent of unwashed gossip.
At the centre of this rot sat Madame Bulk. She was a mountain of grey polyester and delusion. Her most famous feature was her “Dental Garage”—a permanent bulge in her left cheek where she stored half-chewed snacks and half-baked lies.
Chapter 1: The Four Musketeers of Nothing
Madame Bulk wasn’t alone. She was surrounded by her “elite” squad: the Badger, a narcissist who spent his day checking his reflection in puddles of spilt coffee; the Pug, a breathless creature who ran in circles trying to be useful; and the Devotee, a praying mantis who treated office bureaucracy as a holy crusade.
One morning, the Pug arrived, panting and carrying a stack of empty folders. “Madame Bulk! I am here! I am helping! I moved the air from one side of the room to the other!” Madame Bulk chewed slowly, her cheek bulging. “Squit-squit… Good. The budget of the wind must be respected.” The Badger adjusted his fur. “As long as I look magnificent in the report, nothing else matters.”
Chapter 2: The Vixen Obsession
The Devotee appeared like a shadow, her legs folded in a fake prayer. “Madame Bulk, I have seen the Vixen. She was… breathing fresh air again. Without a permit.” Madame Bulk’s eyes narrowed. “Inconceivable! Doesn’t she know that oxygen is not in this year’s plan?” “I could go talk to her!” the Pug shouted, tripping over his own feet. “I can explain the benefits of living in a dark, smelly hole! Everyone loves it here!” The Badger sneered. “She just wants attention. She is jealous of my superior symmetry.”
Chapter 3: The Martyrdom of the Devotee
Later that afternoon, Madame Bulk felt a sudden urge to consume a secret, buttery pastry. She didn’t want to share it with the “Musketeers”, so she squeezed her massive bulk into the narrow gap behind a broken machine.
She didn’t know the Devotee was already there, hiding in the dark to spy on the Vixen’s files.
CRUNCH.
Madame Bulk sat down with the force of a falling building. “Oh! This new office chair is surprisingly bony and crunchy!” Madame Bulk exclaimed, settling her weight. Underneath her, the Devotee was pinned against the concrete. “Mmph… Madame… I cannot… see the light…” “Shut up, chair!” Madame Bulk barked, chewing her pastry. “I am thinking about the strategy for the next three years! Silence is efficiency!”
For ten long minutes, the Devotee was “smoked” by the Hippo’s polyester fumes and acidic sweat. She was baptised in butter crumbs and compressed arrogance.
Chapter 4: The Pug’s Intervention
The Pug passed by the gap and heard a muffled whimpering. “Is everything alright, Madame Bulk? Do you need me to carry something? Your snacks? Your ego?” “Everything is under control, you tiny fool!” Madame Bulk shouted from the dark. “I am doing a deep-tissue analysis of the floor!” “Splendid!” the Pug replied, wagging his tail. “I will go tell everyone that the floor is being analysed with great intensity!”
Chapter 5: The Vixen’s Farewell
When Madame Bulk finally stood up, the Devotee fell to the ground like a dried twig, smelling of rancid butter and “Hippo-scent”.
At that moment, the Vixen appeared in the only patch of light. “What a fascinating system,” the Vixen said, her voice clear and cutting. “Madame Bulk is covered in crumbs, the Devotee is flat as a pancake, and the Badger is still looking for a mirror.”
Madame Bulk tried to stand tall, but a piece of pastry fell out of her Dental Garage. “We are… we are the guardians of the Den! We are essential!” The Vixen looked at the Pug. “And you? Where are you trying to get to with all that running?” The Pug opened his mouth, but only a small puff of dust came out. “I… I am getting to… the next corridor? I think?”
The Vixen turned to the Devotee, who was still smelling like Madame Bulk’s armpit. “Bending so much has made you forget how to stand. You don’t serve a system; you serve a smell.”
With a laugh that shook the dust from the ceiling, the Vixen leapt toward the light and vanished.
Silence followed. Madame Bulk resumed chewing. The Badger adjusted his fur. The Pug, uncertain, started running again. “Don’t worry!” the Pug barked to the empty room. “I will find where she went! I will bring back more gossip! I am very useful!”
But the Devotee didn’t move. For the first time, she wasn’t looking at Madame Bulk’s garage. She was looking at the crack in the ceiling, wondering if the scent of the forest could ever wash away the smell of the Hippo.
Thanks for reading.