Sometimes the best fix is the one with glitter on it
It was Friday afternoon, the day before the Fish Disco.
The Dunwell team had spent all week trying to build an underwater speaker, but nothing worked. They’d tried hydrophobic coatings, marine-grade sealant, silicone gaskets, and waterproof enclosures — but water still found its way in. Gaskets popped, sealant peeled, and the casing flexed and cracked from the deep bass thumps.
Now they were slumped around the workshop table, tired and frustrated.
“I’m out of ideas,” said the snail, her eyes crossing slightly.
“We need a break,” sighed the lion. “My brain is soup.”
“Maybe…” said the monkey, hesitantly, “we could get out Tilly Twinklefluff?”
Everyone paused.
“Yes,” said the turtle, nodding. “A bounce might help us see things differently.”
Tilly Twinklefluff — their Emotional Support Inflatable Unicorn — had long been part of the team. Whenever morale dipped, someone would bring her out. Her shimmering mane and rainbow tail were strangely comforting.
The monkey went off to fetch her.
But he returned a few minutes later, shoulders slumped, face pale, gently cradling what looked like a very sad, very flat heap of vinyl. Her mane, once radiant, lay crumpled. A unicorn in shadow. It felt like the end of magic itself.
“Tilly…” whispered the snail, covering her mouth.
The lion leaned in, ears drooping. “Is she… gone?”
“Not if I have anything to do with it,” said the turtle, rising. “Lion, Monkey — find the puncture. Snail, come with me.”
The turtle and snail rummaged through dusty storerooms and supply crates. Eventually the snail held up a small wooden box labelled:
UNICORN REPAIR KIT — For Emergencies Only
Back in the workshop, the lion and monkey had found Tilly’s wound and marked it with a sticky note that read, “Sorry :(”
Inside the repair kit was a patch, some glue, and a little roll of flexible golden tape.
“This looks promising,” said the monkey, unspooling it.
The lion, with the steadiest paw, carefully cleaned the area, cut a neat patch, and pressed it down — smoothing it out with slow, deliberate movements. Everyone held their breath.
The turtle pumped air.
Tilly began to inflate…
and held.
Air filled her once more — breath returning to a fallen star. She rose, sparkly and lopsided, the golden patch gleaming like a scar that had become a medal.
The team broke into cheers.
“She’s back!” the snail beamed.
The monkey climbed on and started bouncing, whooping with joy.
“At least we fixed something,” said the turtle, smiling.
The snail nodded. “It’s good tape. Very flexible.”
The turtle looked in detail at the tape, reading the tiny print on the side. His eyes widened.
He looked at the snail.
“It’s waterproof,” he said.
Everyone froze.
They stared at Tilly Twinklefluff, heroically bobbing in the middle of the room.
Davide la Locomotive 
Leave a comment