19 The End of Ebenezer

The End of Ebenezer Ebenezer woke up the next morning feeling pretty sorry for himself. He had begged Bethany to leave, but she wasn't having any of it. Every time he attempted reasoning with her, she just folded her arms and blew raspberries at him. Ebenezer was also feeling sorry for himself because he was looking and feeling like someone who should have died a few

centuries ago. His limbs were aching, his eyes were barely working (even with the monocle pushed right in his eye), and there wasn't a part of his body that wasn't infested with wrinkles. He would have happily spent the day in bed, groaning and feeling sad, but Bethany had other ideas. She burst into the room with a saucepan and started whacking it with a wooden spoon. "Wake up, wake up, wake up!" she shouted. "I'm already awake. Leave me alone," he groaned. Bethany did no such thing. She started jumping on the bed and continued to whack away at the pan. With great effort, and little enthusiasm, Ebenezer sat up. "What is it?" he asked.

"I wanna save your life. I stayed awake all last night, and I have some ideas," said Bethany. She fished in her pocket and brought out a crumpled piece of paper. "Dear Geoffrey…," she began, before realizing that she had the wrong one. She fished out another sheet from her back pocket. "Idea number one—let's take you to the hospital." "Doctors can't help me, only magical potions can. People aren't meant to live to 511, you know," answered Ebenezer. "Also, I don't like hospitals or medical equipment." "Fine. Idea number two—why don't we offer the beast something to eat instead of me?" "Already tried that," said Ebenezer. "And it's only interested in you, I'm afraid."

"Humph. Well, it doesn't matter because my third and final idea is an awesome one anyway. Why don't we try and force the beast into giving you your potion?" Ebenezer sighed. He looked at Bethany and wondered how she planned on overpowering a magical, all-consuming creature. "Here's what I'm thinking," she said. "We go to the orphanage and borrow some of the children. There are ones like me there— proper naughty ones who aren't afraid of a fight. Then, if you buy us all some catapults and rotten apples, we storm upstairs and attack the beast until it gives you what you need. What do you think?" "Utter rubbish. Doesn't work on any level," said Ebenezer. "The beast can't be forced to do anything.

"Okay, I've just thought of a totally wicked fourth idea," she began. "Great to know, but I'm not quite sure that I want to spend my last day on earth hearing about ideas that will never work. Let's go downstairs." This was easier said than done. It took about twenty minutes for Ebenezer to stand up from the bed, and another good half an hour or so to crawl into the bathroom. By the time he got there, he didn't have the energy to brush his teeth, so Bethany grabbed the toothpaste from the sink and squirted some into his mouth.

Ebenezer continued to crawl, and with Bethany's help, they made it downstairs. He was exhausted by the time they reached the kitchen. "Whatcha wanna eat?" asked Bethany. This was a surprisingly difficult question to answer. It's a strange thing to choose what you want to eat for your last-ever breakfast on the planet, and Ebenezer was filled with questions. Did he want porridge? Would a