The Curious Tale of Mr Oggy Boggles – Part One

The Curious Tale of Mr Oggy Boggles

When you look up at the moon at night, do you ever wonder who lives up there? We think we know that there are astronauts and cosmonauts and dust and rocks up in space, and that there are no such thing as aliens, but are you sure? Just because you have never seen a thing, doesn’t mean it is not real, does it? I have never seen electricity or the wind or the air, but I know they exist. Is it just that aliens are always where we’re not when we’re looking? Are they just really good at hide and seek?

Let me tell you The Curious Tale of Mr Oggy Boggles and I’ll you decide.

Many years ago, far away on the moon, there lived a curious little fellow, by the name of Mr Oggy Boggles. He didn’t know how he came by this name, because there was no-one around to call him by this name and he couldn’t even remember seeing anyone else at all, only him, so the need for a name seemed rather curious. Nevertheless, Mr Oggy Boggles was his name and he lived, all on his own, on the moon. His favourite food was, of course, cheese. Perhaps, more surprisingly, his second favourite food was marshmallows, even though he’d never eaten any. He loved playing football, although he kept losing the ball because it floated off into space and he wasn’t very good at catching it. At the end of each of his two legs was one large, heavy foot, which helped him stay on the dusty ground of the moon. At the end of one of his arms was a large, three-pronged claw, which was very good for catching moon-cheese weevils and for being in goal, but was rubbish for doing complicated models out of lollipop sticks. On the other arm, he had a hand that looked a mitten, which was much more useful, most of the time.

The most curious thing about Mr Oggy Boggles was that even though he was quite, quite alone, and for all he knew, had always been that way, he never really felt completely lonely. On the very top of his head was an impressive antenna. He had nice little ears too, pretty much like you and me, except they were white and pink and green and blue (which was the same as the rest of him), and he could hear normal sounds through them. But with his antenna, he could hear the sound of stories on Earth. Old stories, new stories, funny stories, sad stories, true stories, made up stories, stories for children, stories just for grown-ups, all sorts of stories. He could choose which ones to listen to, as we can choose which radio station to listen to, and he imagined the faces and places that went with them, and made the pictures up in his head. Being the only being on the moon and seeing on himself and the moon, most of what he saw his head looked like him and the moon, but he loved the stories and whenever he felt a bit sad or on his own, he would concentrate really hard and listen to a story. Oggy really liked the ones about cake and marshmallows the best, but he liked the ones about fighting princesses and rescuing dragons too. Sometimes he thought that he might have muddled things up because he carried around so many stories in his head. He decided that it didn’t matter, it is enjoying the stories that counts and may be listening again next time will help.

One day, everything changed. Mr Oggy Boggles was in his garden, tending his Wensleydale Cheese Plants, which were just coming into bloom, when he heard a terrible crash and a roar. Not ever hearing or seeing anyone else before, he didn’t know what to do. He ran this way and that. He picked up his watering can and put it down four times. He hugged the Cheddar Tree and stubbed his massive toes on the wheelbarrow. Eventually, he ran into his little moon house. The whole of the moon seemed to be shaking and quaking around him. Every plate on his sideboard fell to the floor with crash, his favourite cup with a picture of an acorn looking man on it fell into the sink from the draining board. Poor Oggy didn’t know it was the sound of an explorer vessel from a nearby space station coming in to land to search for life on the moon. He was very afraid, so he pulled the shutters tight across the windows and bolted the door and hid under the table. The shaking didn’t stop and soon he felt his house start to break away from its foundations and drift away into space…or so it seemed to him.



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