A foxy tale: Episode 1

A collaborative serial by Catherin J Pascal Dunk and Jessica Perini

Jambeau Renard was a small man with excellent teeth and an extraordinary love of reggae. The reggae could have solved everything. But Jambeau’s teeth, they’re what started this whole palaver. And what will end it too. 

Now Jambeau was certainly not tall enough for the catwalk—but as we have noted, his teeth were exquisite. And that was how he came to the notice of one Javier Belarte, who was moonlighting as a modelling scout and talent agent to hide his more questionable pursuits.

Jambeau set upon the catwalk this one day in May, 2052. A day none of us will ever forget.

For it was this day that Jambeau strode across the tiles in a new look pj-come-daywear range, beanbag baby in one hand, rose in his mouth, teeth ablaze. 

Javier could only stare and adjust his sunglasses. Sophie Niveau, the state-of-the-art clothing’s designer, on the other hand, was not best pleased. 

“Javier,” she muttered angrily, spitting slightly on the initial sound in his name, “the pant legs are all bunched up around his ankles! He nearly tripped!”

“That look,” he replied archly, “is all the rage this season. Short is the new tall, babes! And did you or did you not clock those glorious choppers!?”

“Save him for your toothpaste ads, Mister Belarte,” Niveau fired back. Thanks to the nonconsensual familiarity of his tone, she was now distinctly frosty.

Javier pushed his sunglasses higher up his nose as he refocused on the wonders that adorned Jambeau’s face. 

“Simply exquisite” he sighed, ignoring Niveau’s exasperation.

Not wanting to take his eyes off this wonder, Javier reached for his hot coffee and, only half paying attention, raised the cup to his lips. 

It was at this point that Jambeau, mid-way through executing his final turn, fell flat on his lustrous face. 

The beanie baby skittered across the floor, coming to rest in front of media mogul Brandon De Bras. The rose somersaulted through the air towards the press box, landing stem-first in Marguerite Bagué’s coiffure. 

And Javier? Javier fainted clean away.

… TO BE CONTINUED …

Subscribe now and be sure to receive the next, gripping chapter!