Supernanny meets Widdle Frunkut

The following is a complete account of the time Jo Frost had the misfortune of coming to The Waldoverse and meeting Waldo:

Chapter 1:

Setting: The Devlin Residence, Waldobury Heights, Widdlington. 31/01/2022

Scene: The lounge. Widdle Frunkut, a diminutive goblin, is engrossed in some ancient Waldonian lore. Master Devlin enters.

Master Devlin: Widdle Frunkut! I will be going on holiday. I have asked the Supernanny, Jo Frost, to supervise you. That will be all.

wF: Is that a good idea, sir?

Master Devlin: No, it is not. But as you're no longer a pupil of the Masters Council, none of the other Masters are willing—or, frankly, inclined—to take you on. Jo Frost, however, relishes a challenge and has volunteered to do it for free. I warned her that this might end in injury, perhaps even her death. She dismissed my concerns as nonsense, insisting there's no child, animal, or creature she can't tame. She really does swear by the naughty step.

wF: I see 🧐. Very well...

Master Devlin: You will be on your best behavior? I have already confiscated all your knives.

wF: Absolutely, Sir! Best behavior!

Master Devlin: Are you going to harm Supernanny?

wF: Wiffuhuh shall do its utmost not to...

Master Devlin: Very well then.

*The Master glances towards the hall and motions for someone to step forward.*

Master Devlin: Widdle Frunkut, I would like you to meet Ms. Frost.

*A smartly dressed, festively plump woman in her early 50s enters, wearing a blazer and skirt. Her brown hair is neatly tied up, and she sports stylish spectacles. She recoils slightly at the sight of the goblin's unkempt appearance—his rubbery green skin seemingly layered with dirt, as if it were permanently grafted on.*

Jo Frost: It's very nice to meet you, Widdle Frunkut.

*She extends her hand. Waldo closes his book, hops off the large armchair, and approaches her.*

wF: Enchanté, mademoiselle... Count Waldo von Sloneker, at your service...

*It reaches up, takes her hand, and kisses it.*

wF: ...But you may call me Waldo. Welcome to our humble abode.

*Jo is taken aback. Given his reputation and appearance, she didn’t expect it to be so charming.*

Jo Frost: Comme c'est très poli de ta part, Waldo. Voudriez-vous me faire visiter?

*She starts to notice a slight burning sensation on her hand from the mild corrosive mucus.*

Jo Frost: Oh my, that's a little nippy.

wF: Yes, of course. I am a goblin...

*It stares at her, scanning her from head to toe.*

wF: Well then, I expect you will want to see the pantry first.

*The Master facepalms.*

Jo Frost: I'm sorry?

wF: There's no need to apologize, my dear. Come! You must be famished...

*Jo follows Waldo as he starts showing her around the home, with the Master trailing suspiciously behind.*

wF: And finally, this is my study. It is my private quarters.

Jo Frost: Private, eh? Many secrets go on in here?

wF: I do not wish to be disturbed in the evenings when I am in here.

Jo Frost: Of course.

wF: It is my sanctuary.

Master Devlin: Yet you have no issue disturbing others in their private quarters?

wF: Oh Saso, this is hardly the time or place for your grumblings. We have a guest...

*The Master frowns, his face turning a slightly redder shade of purple.*

wF: Now, Ms. Frost, let us get you settled in, shall we?

*Waldo leads her to her quarters.*

wF: The Master has left you with a selection of butters and cheeses.

Jo Frost: Graham's dairy and Kintyre cheeses. Very nice.

Master Devlin: Well... I will be on my way then...

wF: Yes. Take care, Master! Have a splendid trip.

Master Devlin: Umm... thank you... Jo, please call me if he becomes... well... difficult...

wF: Oh, I'm sure that won't be necessary. We're going to get along famously...

*Master Devlin turns to depart.*

wF: Like a house on fire...

*The Master halts abruptly, clenching his fists.*

Master Devlin: Was that a threat??

wF: Not at all... A mere figure of speech, squire.

Master Devlin: You see, this is what I have to put up with! Right... I'm going now...

Jo Frost: Goodbye, Master Devlin. Enjoy your holiday.

*The Master leaves, and wF smirks 😈.*

Jo: So, Waldo. Shall I run you a bath?

wF: That would be very kind of you, Madam. Thank you...

Jo: Splendid...

Chapter 2:

Jo: Waldo, it’s time for your evening meal.

wF: Capital! Monday is fried chicken and pasta night!

Jo: Master Devlin informed me. Here you are.

wF: Thank you kindly.

*Waldo puts on his napkin, picks up the knife and fork, and sets them aside. He then plunges his face into the plate and devours the food in seven seconds. Afterward, he gently dabs his lips with his napkin.*

wF: Ah, exquisite. Thank you, Madam.

Jo: You're very welcome. It was very kind of Master Devlin to pre-make your dinners before leaving.

wF: Yes... Quite... Well, I’m heading to the lounge. Will you fetch me my pipe and slippers, please?

Jo: Ah, ah, ah, remember you have chores to do.

wF: What chores?

Jo: The dishes, of course. They’re not going to wash themselves.

wF: Very well. It shall be done!

*Waldo dashes into the kitchen with the plates and begins scrubbing with remarkable speed.*

Jo: Now, there’s no need to rush...

*She says this as she turns to follow him into the kitchen, only to find him reappearing almost immediately.*

wF: Finished!

*Jo peers into the kitchen through the doorway. To her astonishment, it is now immaculate and tidy.*

wF: The kitchen is, as they say, spic and span, Madam...

*She turns back to him, puzzled, and finds him now looking very dapper in a tuxedo.*

wF: Now, dear lady, may I please have this dance before I retire to my quarters?

Jo: Um...

*Waldo reaches up, takes Supernanny by the hand, and pulls her close. She awkwardly complies, but with his diminutive stature, it feels like dancing with a small child. Waldo then opens his mouth wide, and strange crackling noises start emanating from within before music begins to play. The music is distorted and tinny, reminiscent of a piece played through a dodgy telephone speaker, but it is recognisably Shostakovich's Jazz Suite No. 2. They waltz around the dining hall for the full duration of the piece.*

wF: Neat trick, huh, Ms. Frost?

Jo: Um, yes... sure, Widdle Frunkut. Very interesting. Well, I think it’s time for you to go to bed.

wF: Will you tuck us in?

Jo: Is that really necessary?

wF: It’s imperative, madam. The Master always gives us a cuddle and then tucks us in at night. It helps us settle down, you see.

Jo: Oh, very well then...

*Jo takes him by the hand, and they head up to his bedroom. She tucks him in.*

wF: Oh, can we have a goodnight kiss too?

Jo: I don’t think so. My husband won’t be best pleased.

wF: It’s just an innocent kiss. Besides, we won’t tell him. Wesa don’t even be knowing him.

*Supernanny blows a kiss.*

wF: I’ll take it.

Jo: Right then, goodnight, Waldo. We’ll start your lessons tomorrow.

wF: Fat bitch. (whispering under his breath)

Jo: Excuse me?

wF: Wuh?

Jo: What did you just say?

wF: Oh, nothing. Just had a bad itch. It’s in my groin, you see. Don’t worry, I’ve already applied my clotrimazole...

Jo: Hmm, I see.

wF: Was there something else?

Jo: No, no...

wF: Well then, goodnight!

Jo: Goodnight, Waldo.

Chapter 3:

Jo: Good morning, Waldo!

wF: What time is it?

Jo: 8 a.m.

wF: Good Lord... Ridiculous.

Jo: Time for a spot of breakfast.

wF: Preposterous. This is too early. Wake me up in about four hours.

Jo: No, Waldo, it’s time for your lessons.

wF: What lessons? You’re some kind of educator??

Jo: You must learn.

wF: Learn what? I’m not a morning goblin! This isn’t constructive...

Jo: Master Devlin has warned me that you are quite a terror.

wF: And has that been your experience thus far?

Jo: So far—polite initially, then a bit of a sleazy sex pest.

wF: Sex pest?? Sleazy??

Jo: Come along then. Let's go.

wF: You wound me, madam. We are most hurt by such words. Wiffuhuh was just trying to make you feel welcome. I must say, you have cut me to the quick and I simply cannot be roused from my bed now. That’s the end of it...

*Jo Frost picks up Waldo from his bed, carries him downstairs like a toddler, and places him in a baby highchair at the dining table.*

wF: Foul wench. How dare you goblin-handle me like that?

Jo: Yeah, yeah...

*Waldo takes his sippy cup and, with a defiant expression, drops it on the floor, making a mess.*

Jo: Waldo! Your behaviour is unassssssepable...

wF: Your weight is unassssssepable...

Jo: Excuse me??

wF: Suck my ****, you fat bint.

*Jo gasps in horror, momentarily speechless.*

wF: I suppose it’s time for the naughty step?

Jo: Yes! This instant. Come along.

*Jo takes Waldo to the main hall and places him on the bottom step of a grand staircase.*

Jo: Now you will sit there until you apologise...

*Waldo sits on the naughty step, looking around confused, as if waiting for something to happen. Eventually, he stands up, looks down at the step, then up at her.*

wF: Is this it? How does it work?

Jo: How does what work?

*Waldo calmly steps off the step and moves several feet away from it.*

wF: Hmm... Doesn’t seem to be working.

Jo: I don’t understand...

*Jo grabs Waldo by the arm, guides him back to the step, and sits him down.*

wF: The Master told me about the naughty step. He showed me on the television.

Jo: And?

*Once again, Waldo casually gets off the naughty step.*

wF: I assumed there was some power to it... That you were a mage or some kind of sorceress using an immobilising spell, but...

*He turns to her with a look of hostility. Her eyes widen at his threatening expression.*

wF: You don’t have any actual power, do you?

Jo: Now see h—

wF: You’re a fraud! And to think I cozied up to you for nothing. Well, that’s it. This little charade is over.

*Waldo starts walking up the stairs briskly.*

Jo: Get back here this instant!

*She follows Waldo upstairs and eventually catches up with him on the upper landing, grabbing him by the ear.*

Jo: You will apologise to me immediately!

*Waldo’s ears start to flutter. He bares his fangs and makes a hissing sound.*

*Cut to an exterior shot of the house, looking up at the second-storey window. Jo is seen being thrown out through the large glass window with a crash, landing with a heavy thump off-screen. The scene cuts to a closer view of the window with Waldo climbing up and peering down with a playful smirk to inspect the damage. The camera then shows the patio below, where Jo lies in a crumpled, broken heap. Her leg twitches, and blood runs from her nose and mouth.*

Jo: Your behaviour is un—unassssssepable... (she murmurs)

Co-Editor: So that lasted an evening and a bit of a morning...

Editor: Yes, well, it would have been shorter had Waldo not been deceived.

Chapter 4:

The doorbell rings. Waldo goes to answer it. It’s Stanbot.

wF: Oh, hey there, partyman...

Stanbot: Hi, Waldo. The Master asked me to check in while he's away.

wF: Ah, you’re just in time! We’ll need a new housekeeper...

Stanbot walks in and notices the smashed window at the top of the stairs.

Stanbot: What on earth has happened here?

wF: Supernanny tried to flex on Wiffuhuh...

Stanbot heads up to inspect the window. He then notices Jo Frost lying in a heap outside.

Stanbot: Oh for fucks sake, Waldo...

wF: Yes, someone should clean up that mess. Be a good chap, will you?

Stanbot goes to check on her. Waldo follows. They find her struggling to breathe or move but still alive. Waldo pokes her with a stick.

wF: I’m hungry... We should have her for dinner.

Stanbot: She appears to have a spinal injury.

wF: Ah, good. Not going anywhere then...

Stanbot: I should take her to St. Waldobury’s. It’s not far.

wF: Don’t be preposterous, robit. It’s already been decided. We should definitely eat her. If there’s any magical knowledge in her, we shall gain it. Besides... there’s a lot of meat on this one... Shame to waste it. I’ll go put the oven on... You can prepare the vegetables if you want them.

Chapter 5:

Later on: Waldo, Stanbot, and Jo are sitting at the table, enjoying a feast.

wF: More leg, Joanne?

Jo grunts something, her eyes conveying fear and pain as she sits, unable to move below the neck. She tries to look down at the stumps where her legs used to be, now sitting on the table.

wF: Mmm... not bad this... More gravy, Stanbot? I still don’t understand why you sullied your plate with turnip. Yuck.

Stanbot: I think I’ll stick to the booze, if that’s alright.

wF: Very well. I think Joanne could use some. Give her a stiff drink.

Stanbot: Have you loaded her with drugs?

wF: Yes. But one drink shouldn’t hurt.

Stanbot: And did you put me on standby or something?

wF: Yes.

Stanbot: Oh dear. Here you are, Jo... Do you have a straw, Waldo? She seems to have lost power in her lips and jaw.

wF: Well, I suppose she won’t be of any use to the Travers man either then.

Waldo rummages in its back pocket.

wF: Ah! Here we are. There you go, Jo.

Waldo tosses the straw in her direction.

Stanbot: You know, I think she’s had a stroke as well.

wF: Quite likely.

Stanbot: What are you going to tell Master Devlin?

wF: The truth. He’ll understand... In fact, he’ll blame himself...

Stanbot: ...

wF: That was a pleasant meal! Besides, Joanne is still with us. She’s here to teach, you know. We look forward to what other lessons she has planned...

wF (cont’d): Look, she even gave me a jotter. Isn’t that nice? Now, Stanbot, please be a dear and carry her up to her room and put her to bed. And you can give us a wake-up call in the morning. 11... Actually, let’s say 11:30. I’m retiring to my quarters now... Goodnight. Goodnight, Supernanny.

Waldo gives her a big kiss on her drooling lips and departs.

Chapter 6:

Stanbot: Umm, Waldo, it’s 11:30. Your alarm call.

wF: An alarm call fit for a mouse, I expect.

Stanbot: Don’t be a fool.

wF: Stephanie...

Stanbot: Oh, by the way, Ms Frost is dead.

wF: What?

wF: What did you do to her?

Stanbot: I did nothing to her. I recommended taking her to a hospital, but you were quick to shoot that down. I suspect her death is due to the severe back and neck injury from being thrown out the window, followed by a stroke. And the blood loss from consuming her legs. Coupled with her weight...

wF: Well, you were the last to handle her, so it’s on you. You probably broke her with your robot strength... But it’s fine. I have an idea. Drop her off at the hospital with a note saying she had omicron. They’ll give her a death certificate saying she died of COVID! She’s high risk, after all. Obese!

Stanbot: YOU will drop her off. On account of this being your mess...

wF: Oh, Stanbot. Be reasonable.

Stanbot: Reasonable?

wF: Look at us... Then look at that giant lump of lard. Wiffuhuh is 2'5" and weighs about as much as a water balloon. How on earth do you expect me to take her?

Stanbot: Yet you threw her out of a window and refused to take her to hospital. I say that’s very UNreasonable.

wF: Well, that’s all in the past now. Can’t do anything about it. As for the intermittent goblin super strength... It’s complicated. Can’t do it all the time. Please, Stanbot, let’s just clean this mess up together. You’re in this as much as I am!

Stanbot: No. You have a corpse to deal with. And yet you take no responsibility and blame me for her death.

wF: You could have taken her to hospital!

Stanbot: You powered me down to stop me! Even then, I still might have helped you... if you hadn’t blamed me just now.

wF: No, we didn’t. Your memory chip is malfunctioning. And I’m telling you, COVID killed her. The doctors will confirm it. It’s all that booze you drink.

Stanbot: And whose fault is that? You made me this way.

wF: Look, Stanbot. I’m tired of arguing. Let’s put her in the truck, please.

Stanbot: No.

wF: Fine. Get out!

Stanbot: Fine. I’m going to leave now.

wF: You’re no longer welcome here.

Waldo drags Jo's large carcass outside and tosses it into the green wheelie bin.

Stanbot, still on the grounds, calls back.

Stanbot: Oh, by the way, it won’t be long until a missing persons report is made.

wF: Yes, well, I’ll be sure to inform the authorities about you if they come looking. Who are they going to believe, me or you? I’m a little creature; you’re a big, brutish robot.

Stanbot: The authorities don’t know I exist.

wF: They will.

Stanbot: They know all about you, though, and all the things you’ve done. Besides, what about when Master Devlin finds out? He has much sway with the authorities.

wF: Whatever. If they think Wiffuhuh did it, they’ll sweep it under the rug like they do with the rest.

Stanbot: Also, did you even check to see if she’s actually dead? You just took my word for it.

wF: Yes! She’s dead, Jim. And in the bin. Another COVID statistic.

Stanbot: You’re an imbecile, Waldo. Goodbye.

wF: Va fail, flatfoot.

The End.