It was so.
Eventually, the potion wore off and Salami was back to normal.
He was extremely cranky, though. (To read the events that led up to DS’s transformation, read here.)
“You seem to be in a raw mood…” King Arthur said. “And what are you doing in my castle?”
“Where’s me son Ruber at?” Salami’s mouth hung open into a frown.
“How would I possibly know?” Arthur snapped. “Get out.”
“I need ta yell at him, cur-trout!”
“Not my problem.”
Daddy Salami left and made his way to Scientist’s house. (I suppose you can call it a house. I do wonder what the difference is between a house, shanty, hut, and house. And mansion. And house. Enough of this; I’m sidetracked. I apologize.)
Now it just so happened that this professor was in Scientist’s…abode. (Add that to the list, you might as well.)
“Good to see you, Mr. Salami,” Scientist said. “So good-good.”
“Shut yer mouth, cur-belly. What’d ya turn me into a lizard fer, huh?”
“It was an experiment,” Scientist answered good naturedly.
“Yes,” I said. “Scientist’s are usually running experiments. Funny you don’t know that, Salami.”
Daddy Salami turned his green (feral) eyes on me. “Who’s talking ta you?”
The professor took a wild guess. “You are, right?”
“Eww! I’m going to tear our your liver!”
“Never mind that,” Scientist said. “Would either of you two be willing to try this?”
And I fear Scientist was holding a pale blue potion. It was bubbling. With bubbles.
“Not a chance,” Salami said. “I need ta find my son.”
Scientist turned the potion to me. “How about you, Vernon?”
Now, we must get something straight. The “V” in this professor’s name does not stand for “Vernon”. Scientist calls me that for some unknown reasons. I think someone he once knew was called Vernon. But my name is not Vernon. Just ask Smiles Riot (he’s my cousin). He’ll tell you it’s so, too.
“No, thank you,” I said, declining and backing away.
“Where’s me son?” Salami yelled.
“Why?” I asked.
“I need to ask him a question,” Salami answered.
Scientist turned back towards his work. “Your son came in here before you—yea, even before Vernon—and I offered him the pale blue potion. It’s a goody-good potion.”
Both Salami and I glanced at each other.
“Did he drink it?” Salami asked nervously.
“Yes?” I put in.
“Sadly not,” Scientist answered; “but he did take the yellow one. I’m sure you can find him hopping about the room—if you look hard enough.”
With a cry, Salami fell to his knees, searching for Ruber.
This professor left, faster than greased lightning, faster than a slow bullet, fast than a bull, and slower than I should have.