Fairytale: The Secret Passion Of Squirrel Studkin

Squirrel Studkin lived in a secret location in the heart of the forest, and wore a cape and mask when fighting crime. He was a figure of immense mystery and glamour.

Whenever the inhabitants of the village of Never Ready were threatened by a band of bandits, they would write to Squirrel Studkin requesting protection. Their letters would usually go something like this:

“Dear Squirrel Studkin,
“It has come to our notice that a band of bandits is planning to attack our village on Thursday afternoon. Of course we have done everything in our power to prepare for this ghastly horror, but deep down we know that only you can make a difference. You’re the best, Squirrel Studkin. Please help us.
“Yours sincerely,
“The Villagers.”

And sure enough, Squirrel Studkin would swoop down from the trees just at the moment when he was needed and, with the strength of twenty squirrels, put the bandits to flight. It was an enormous comfort to know that he was out there somewhere.

Little was known about the private life of Squirrel Studkin, but it was said that he had a secret passion. It was also said that if ever this secret passion became known, the villagers would lose their protector. It was therefore one of the great unwritten rules of village life that one should never ask Squirrel Studkin what his secret passion was. It was called the Don’t Ask/Don’t Ask rule.

Now it sometimes occurs that when a stud reaches middle age, there arises in him a profound yearning for an uncle/nephew-style relationship with an attractive young fellow in need of guidance. Squirrel Studkin was no exception to this rule and, having dated a number of the best-looking village boys, eventually selected a gorgeous lad called Sparrow and whisked him off to his forest lair. Sparrow smoked too much spliff and had profound authority issues, but had always secretly dreamed of being taken in hand by a strong-minded older person, and the attraction between them was intense.

After they had made glamorous love, Sparrow said, “Squirrel Studkin, Squirrel Studkin, what is your secret passion?”

And Squirrel Studkin replied, “Don’t ask! Don’t ask!”

Studkin dressed Sparrow up in tight lycra and a mask, and their love was like a forest fire.

After the second time they made love, Sparrow said, “Please Squirrel Studkin, Squirrel Studkin please, tell me your secret passion — I’m down on my knees!”

And Squirrel Studkin said, “By my flowing cape and my sexy mask — do not ask, do not ask!”

Studkin taught Sparrow how to fly through the air and beat people up, and their love was a raging tornado.

On their third night together Sparrow, who was now quite beside himself with curiosity, suddenly stopped what he was doing and said, “Prove you love me, Squirrel Studkin! Tell me your secret passion! I won’t continue with what I am doing until you have told me!”

Now Squirrel Studkin was by this time head over heels in love with the young tearaway, and besides, his entire body was crying out for Sparrow to continue with what he had been doing; and so, in a moment of weakness, he gave in.

“My secret passion,” he replied, “is that I like to eat peppermint creams in the bath.”

“Is that all?” said Sparrow.

“Just that,” said Studkin. “Now can we continue?”

“I was expecting something far more butch,” said Sparrow.

“Well, that’s all it is,” said Studkin.

The next day, Sparrow went to the pub and told all his mates what Squirrel Studkin’s secret passion was.

“Is that all?” said his mates. “We were expecting something dark and kinky. Something transgressive.”

“That’s all it is,” said Sparrow glumly. “Fuckin’ peppermint creams.”

Soon Squirrel Studkin’s secret passion was common knowledge in the village. That such a glamorous person as Studkin should get off on such a simple, homely pleasure was felt by all to be highly amusing. As a little joke, the villagers clubbed together and bought a big box of peppermint creams, which they gift-wrapped and sent to Studkin, with a little note which read:

“To our fearless protector Squirrel Studkin,
“With undying gratitude
“From the Villagers of Never Ready.”

The package was delivered to Studkin’s secret hide-out by a chipmunk.

“Oh look, honey,” said Sparrow. “A parcel for you.”

Studkin opened the package and found the peppermint creams and the note. For a moment he was silent. Then, in a strangely rasping voice he said, “How thoughtful of them. Run me a bath, sweetie-pie.”

That night, Sparrow tried to initiate lovemaking, but Studkin was distant and unresponsive.

Next morning, at breakfast, Studkin said, “This isn’t working for me.”

Sparrow trudged back to the village, feeling thoroughly ashamed of himself. If only he hadn’t nagged Studkin to reveal his secret! If only he hadn’t blabbed to his friends!

When he got to Never Ready, he found the villagers in a state of alarm. The bandits were planning to attack on Friday afternoon at 4.30 and, as usual, no-one had any idea what to do about it. So they sat down and wrote a letter to Studkin. It went as follows.

“Dear Squirrel Studkin,
“It has come to our notice that the band of bandits is planning to attack us at 4.30 on Friday afternoon. Of course we have defended our little village as best we can, but we are a tad concerned that the bandits may overwhelm our fragile defenses and come hurtling down on us like wolves on the fold.
“We would be enormously grateful if you could possibly spare the time to come and rescue us from a fate worse than death. Shall we say 4.15 for 4.30?
“Yours sincerely,
“The Villagers.”

The following morning, a reply was received, conveyed by a skunk. Here is what it said:

“Dear Villagers,
“Terribly concerned to hear about the bandits. Unfortunately I have to be at home on Friday at 4.30, as I am expecting a consignment of luxury peppermint creams from Paris. Hope all goes well.
“Yours sincerely,
“Squirrel Studkin.”

COPYRIGHT ROBERT FARRAR 2007