THE SH-HAIR-HAIR MUSHROOM

The delicate, shy, beautiful Sh-hair-hair Mushroom was first identified by Fropessor Demp of the Look Institute, Nool Parish, twelve cycles ago, during one of his extensive expeditions into the dank water-meadows. (The mushroom is now number 9 in the island’s list of protected species, replacing the Frut Duck, which recently went on a breeding frenzy and is now just everywhere. So it’s okay to shoot them, if you want.) The entry in Demp’s field journal reads: “Got up. Realized it was still dark. Went back to bed again. Had a dream about a couple of apples trying to teach me to slow-dance. (Must find out what this means from the brain doctor). Got up again. This time it was light, so stayed up and put on my field-wear. Since my breakthrough, stalking the Reddish Upside-down Bird in full camouflage, my garb now exactly resembles a mobile hillock. I simply look out of two fake rabbit holes. It’s great ‘cos it’s warm under all that grass, so no need to wear thermals. Only drawback last time was when a couple of rabbits tried burrowing into me, but they were pretty understanding about the whole thing. Also quite a heavy cow grazed me for a while, but again, once I’d explained, she just backed off. She did manage to chew off my entire fringe first though, which was sticking out amid the upper tufts of the hill, but I’m confident it’ll grow back, and it gives me a chance to try something new in terms of styling. I moved in measured increments of 0.003 Theritsons per hour into the meadows, conscious it would blow my cover if anyone saw a hillock just dashing about. The sun was in its fifteenth quarter, I’d just had my usual lunch of cheese straws, iced buns and vole rissoles (just the common vole, nothing rare), and I was edging towards a fetid pool, when I stopped in amazement. A quiver of excitement passed through my tussocks, and a small bit of grit trickled into my eye. Through the blur, I could see the simple, elegant shape of a small bluish purplish fungus glistening in a freshly-made cake of bovine excrement. This was an entirely new and unfamiliar genus! The spotty hump of my new friend emitted a subtle glow, which increased as darkness fell and I had visions of revolutionizing the light-bulb industry with my new funghi-find. I was forced to stay where I was as a party of picnickers had taken residence on my summit and were laughing and chatting so loudly I couldn’t manage to get them to hear my muffled cries. This was doubly unfortunate as, there being no readily accessible public toilets in the vicinity, a couple of these merrymakers decided to avail themselves of the rabbit holes. Anyway, it was worth it! Alone at last, I picked the tiny mushroom, which gave a delightful breathy ‘sh-hair-hair’ sound as it popped out of its dung bed. In my joy, I couldn’t help kissing it, but I have to admit, the taste of its recent resting place did rather linger. Back home to make plans for my new hairstyle. Might go for a sort of backcombed bob. Might also rethink the hillock suit thing or at least fill in those rabbit holes.”