Much to our Chagrin, we offer a new entry in the Magpie Tales
It was drizzling that morning when Tiny Melvin left Ogreville en route to Chagrin Falls. He put on his favorite sweater and began his journey.
Since his days in the crib, Tiny Melvin had heard so much about Chagrin Falls where he had heard that the quote “Much to my Chagrin” was embedded in marble and framed with copper and chrome.
To reach Chagrin Falls, he had to pass through the Forest of Regret and down the Cranky Creek until it fed into the Rotten River. Many a tale had been told around the campfire about the horrid stench of the Rotten River. But nothing could have prepared Tiny Melvin for just how horrid the odor was. As he rowed his pint-sized canoe he saw lifeless bodies on rafts and barges who had likely perished from the fumes rising from the wretched waters.
But there was no time to delay. Tiny Melvin kept imagining the great pleasure he would have when he would soon be greeted by Uncle Nestor and they would be able to enjoy a tasty dinner of Durga Chicken.
As he trekked through the Vicious Valley and up the Hills of Horror until he finally saw the disappointed waters of Chagrin Falls pouring downward in the distance. And as he neared his destination, he heard a loud mechanical noise above and he looked up to see his other two uncles, Walter and Wurvin, flying in from Middleton. They waved and shouted, “Much to our chagrin, it’s Tiny Melvin!”