12 The Breakfast

The Breakfast Ebenezer woke up the following morning feeling most unwell. When he opened his eyes, everything was blurry, and he had to put on his monocle just to see the duvet. And then, when he let out his morning yawn, his elbows and arms creaked like they were a set of old doors.

He stood up and discovered that his legs were wobbling. They both still worked, but they had lost much of their strength during the night. It took even longer than it had done the day before to reach the bathroom, and when he arrived, he almost burst into tears. Ebenezer was upset by his reflection. His face was now entirely wrinkled with age. Just to make himself feel worse, Ebenezer started to count the number of wrinkles that had appeared on his forehead overnight. He had reached number eight, when he was interrupted by the sound of the beast's bell. "This day keeps getting better and better," he moaned to the wrinkly mirror. Ebenezer trudged upstairs. The sound of the bell grew louder and more demanding as he made his way to the top floor.

The beast continued to ring the bell, even when Ebenezer was in the room. It only stopped after Ebenezer coughed in a pointed fashion. "What in the name of hot biscuits took you so long?" spat the beast. It was not in a jolly mood. "Terribly sorry, my legs are a bit slow this morning," answered Ebenezer. The beast targeted its three black eyes at Ebenezer. It burst into laughter. "Ho ho ho, oh, Ebenezer, is that really what you look like without the potion?" it said. "Gosh, those 511 years really haven't been kind to you, have they?" The beast was truly tickled by the sight of Ebenezer's new oldness. It laughed and laughed, until it broke out into a coughing fit.

Ebenezer walked over and gave the beast a firm pat on the back. The beast coughed out some stationery (a ruler, a protractor, and a packet of pencils), and then it was back to normal again. "You shouldn't have made me laugh so much, Ebenezer!" said the beast crossly. "You know how bad it is for my chest. Really, you could have given me some warning before you came up here looking like that." "Sorry, but I'm afraid that my appearance was a bit of a shock to me as well. I couldn't give you much warning, because I had no idea that I would wake up looking like this. I can't remember the last time I was without the potion for so long." "April 1902," said the beast. "It was when you took ages to bring me that Baskerville

hound to eat. But I don't remember you looking quite this old and rotten." "Speaking of the potion, I don't suppose there's any chance you might be able to give me a small advance?" asked Ebenezer. "Yes, yes, yes—that's why I rang for you. How's the child doing?" "She's doing fine, actually. A lot better. You know, she's not as awful as I thought—she apologized to someone yesterday, and she didn't let me sleep on a toad, so… yes. Progress, I would say." The beast was not impressed. It didn't care about Bethany's emotional journey to becoming a better-behaved person. It only wanted to know whether the child was now large enough to eat.

"The child seemed a little rounder, when I saw her," said the beast. "There was more skin on her bones, and more juiciness in her cheeks. You have done good work, Ebenezer." Ebenezer blushed. It was always a nice surprise to receive compliments from the beast. "And you know, I haven't had so much as a bite to eat, since that singing parrot," continued the beast. "My stomach has started to growl." "Oh, poor you," said Ebenezer. "You should have said. Would you perhaps like a little snack?" "I would rather a fat child, Ebenezer! How much clearer can I be?" Ebenezer's chest tightened. He started to feel uneasy.