Strawberry Tea (part three)

Pappy’s outraged splutterings and loud curses directed the rescue party right to where he was. Dozens of rescuers arrived on the run, and with ladders, tackle, crampons and climbing ropes, they quickly scaled the fruity walls to get to the outraged victim.
Amazing, thought Sparky, staring fascinated at his Pappy’s solo head and two fingers.
“How’d he do that?”
There was no time to lose; the T’sols were nervous, being down on the ground was not the sort of place they liked to be; it was dangerous, death and disaster in all sorts of shapes and sizes lurked everywhere, they being so small, and everything else so very large. How could it be otherwise?
The rescue had to be a quick in and quicker out mission, they had to grab Pappy and be away, before any unwanted company arrived.
One look told them; they couldn’t do it, Pappy T was in too deep, the rest of him was buried in the flesh of the berry.
What to do? Sparky was very worried; they’d no proper tools with them to dig the old man out, and already they could hear something large crashing through the underbrush on its way to see what all the fuss was about.
“Black mouse,” roared a sentry, “northwest, ETA ten minutes! No, less, definitely less!”
Still plenty of time to complete the break-out, but don’t forget, mousey was big, at least twelve inches high, and twenty- four inches long, and from the noise it was making it would be on them very soon.
“No time,” shrieked a shrill, disembodied woman’s voice from somewhere high above, “quick lads, secure the berry, prepare to hoist it up!”
Of course, that was the only sensible thing to do. Sparky blew his wife, Tulip, a big kiss, and roared out sharp orders.
“Cut berry free, connect harness, start winching, pull, one and two, one and two…”
The Tournesols went to it, and before you could say Solsequium, the fancy Fragaria, firmly shackled, soared from its straw bed and went swiftly up and up into the blue.

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