It was just after midnight in the mortal world when another strange event took place. There was a bright green flash in the study inside the dolls house. Next second, a tiny ‘click’ lit up the crystal lamp on the desk in the corner, illuminating two men. They were so small that they could have used a coffee cup as a hot tub. It was King Arthur and Mr Wiggins.
The King had dressed for the occasion. His blood-red tunic was bedecked with pearls, and his heavy brown boots had been polished to a sheen. His crown was perched on his stiffly curled white hair, and suspended from a gem-encrusted belt around his waist, was a magnificent gleaming silver sword.
Though smartly dressed for a ‘mortal’ man, by contrast, Mr Wiggins looked positively dowdy. He was wearing a dark blue suit, plain black shoes, and a bright yellow tie with blue and purple butterflies. Unfortunately, such was his concentration on the task at hand that he’d lost track of his mole. It was now sitting near the top of his forehead, thereby creating the impression of a third eye.
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