Day 191 - Cartoon

 CARTOON

Prompt - Cartoon : Think of your favourite cartoon or comic.  Write a poem of story that takes place in that setting.

I'd looked closely, impressed at the brushwork.  Time to take a few steps back and soak in the entirety of the painting, the scope of a work that had grabbed my attention the moment I had walked into this area of the outdoor exhibition.  Something stopped me, a firm press in the centre of my lower back, and a clipped electronic voice said "Please keep two meter distance".  I turned to see who had halted my movement.

"Oh.  Sorry about that.  It gets a bit over enthusiastic sometimes, without me being fully in control.  It's all automatic you know." said a smooth friendly voice, a hint of apology in his tone.

The owner of the voice was a small man of unusual appearance.  He wore a bright red tie and a green tank top that looked as if it had been made from recycled tyre treads.  Over each shoulder there was a curiously bulgy metallic black support strap, joined across his chest by a squidgy looking band with a small nozzle, presumably belonging to some kind of pack on his back.  He had a strange head, bald, pear shaped, with the widest grin I'd ever seen, a bulbous, round nose, and sticky out ears that would have shamed crazy plant-talking Charlie from the palace.

"No problem, I just got a bit of a surprise.  But what do you mean by 'automatic'?"  The man had me puzzled.

"It's my covid-o-matic backpack" he said, turning slightly and indicating the bulky object the straps held up.  "Keeps me safe from infection.  I'm an inventor, aren't I lad?"  He looked down.  The 'lad' shuffled round from behind him, a smooth coated dog of unknown breed, with big curved ears, and huge black nose and... well, no mouth that I could see.  His big eyes looked up at his master, then at me, and did a bit of a roll as if to say "see what I'm stuck with?"

"So how does it keep you safe, what did it do to stop me getting close?"

"Come a bit nearer and you'll see."  I moved towards him and a stick like arm with a small, padded, wooden hand on the end shot from the side of the backpack, landing firmly in the middle of my chest.  "Please keep two meter distance" said a hidden speaker.  

"Does that if anyone gets a bit close.  Still got to make a few fine adjustments, but it's mostly working well."  The curious dog looked sceptical.  "And whenever I go indoors I just pull on this tab here..." he said, indicating a small arrow headed bit of leather on the left shoulder strap.  he tugged it and different arms appeared from either side of the backpack, moved swiftly over his head and pulled a surgical face mask over his big mouth and nose, and hooked it over the protruding ears, before sliding smartly away.  "Gromit's got one too, haven't you boy?"  I looked down to see similar arms slipping back into the dog's collar, leaving the pooch masked and grumpy looking.   "And then tucks them away once used."  And another tug reversed the procedure, both man and dog facially uncovered once more.  I didn't know whether to be impressed or laugh at the weirdness of it all.

"Of course it lets me keep my hands nice and clean too.  Ready supply of hand sanitiser here."  And he put one hand to the nozzle in the centre of his chest, which immediately squirted a clear gel out.  He rubbed his chubby, rubbery hands in a cleansing motion.  "And if I want to pick anything up..."  He tugged on a different leather tab and another robotic hand appeared with a metal claw on the end.  By twiddling with a small joystick on the left strap he made the stick extend and pick up a discarded chocolate paper.  "Handy little thing" he said, clearly amused by his own punning attempt.  The dog did another eye roll.  "What do you think of it?" he asked, seeking my approval.  "I've got patent pending on this little beauty."

I managed a few words that tried to convey what a fine achievement his device was, without sounding liker I thought he was totally crazy.  

"We'll all have one of these soon" he said with assured enthusiasm, "My name's Wallace, nice to meet you, must be getting on.  Come on lad, let's get back home.  A nice bit of Wensleydale waiting for us there.  Goodbye."

He gave a shy wave and turned to go.  The dog Gromit turned to follow him, but stopped and looked back at me, sadly shook his head in long suffering resignation."  I felt, rather than heard, him sigh.  Then his shuffling gait took him back to the heels of his master and they walked out of my life.  I wonder what became of them?