Vigil.

Gleetings ! Gravesend calling, again !

At night, in Gravesend, beneath the silvery moon, Great Granny Troll No.1 stands vigil with Bottle Green Batman, lest creeping and crawling beings with moggery in mind come, slinking in the cold dark. Here stand Hounds with rending fangs, more Batmans, PC Plod and his cohort. Also lots more, which are secret.

“Have a peppermint.” says Great Granny No.1, Mildred to her friends.
“Why, thank you, ma’am.” says the Batman, who is quite shy.
“And later we shall take tea, together.”
“Er, will that be Peppermint Tea, ma’am ?” enquires the Batman, who is shy, also naive.
Great Granny No.1 looks at him in an old fashioned way.
“You cannot make tea from Peppermint, young Batman.” she says. “Tea comes from tea leaves. That is the way of things.”
“Yes, ma’am.” says the Batman, who knows when to argue and when not.
That is the way of things.

The night passes, slowly. At Tea Time, The Batman is instructed to be mummy and does so decorously, so much so that the Great Granny winks at him. “You must call me Mildred !” she exclaims. “And I shall call you Robin.”
Poor Batman.

Walk Tall !