Clutching at straws

This is a pretty cool one, Drinking Straw Day. I was originally going to patiently sip an entire glass of blackcurrant cordial through fifty interconnected straws spanning the living room and kitchen, but then remembered I’d attempted it on my last birthday (the carpet’s still stained and I’m pretty sure I almost passed out). So instead I decided to be a bit crafty and create the little fella above.

His name’s Chester, in tribute to the modern straw’s inventor, Marvin Chester Stone. He’s a cute little hedgehog that snuffles around the kitchen at night for dropped morsels of cake and spilt milk. Either that or it’s a potato with the texture and pattern of an old man’s liver-spotted skin, with some hollow tubes of plastic rammed into it. Your choice; you can have either delightful fantasy or faintly horrific reality, not both.

I’m pretty proud of this little guy. Yes, I admit he doesn’t really look like a hedgehog, but then what does these days? …I’m not sure what I meant by that; surely a hedgehog looks like a hedgehog? Anyway, I’m going to leave him on the kitchen counter until one of the following occurs:

1. He slowly withers, forcing the straws to ooze out and fall to the floor.
2. He sprouts those horrible hairy legs that potatoes get, and then if there really is magic involved he’ll bugger off to some enchanted land.
3. The cats will violently tear him to shreds within the hour.

Whatever the outcome, I can’t say I’m looking forward to it. Damn you, Marvin Chester Stone. Damn you and your ingenious beverage-based utensil!