What is the square root of two thousand and twenty five?
Is it eleven?
No, it is not eleven.
Eleven squared is only One hundred and twenty one, so it is not eleven.
I wonder what it is though.
What number multiplies by itself to give the number two thousand and twenty five?
I am not sure.
Perhaps I should ask a mathematics professor at an important educational institution.
But I do not know any important educational institutions.
Or at least, there are none of them nearby that I can go to, to ask a question of such significant importance, as to what the square root of two thousand and twenty five is.
I wonder if an abacus might be able to help me out, here.
How do I even work an abacus.
Are there enough wooden beads on my abacus?
Should I order more beads?
Where can I order beads?
And will they be the correct shape and size for my abacus?
Wait.
Do I even own an abacus?
I used to own an abacus, a long time ago.
But I haven't seen it lately.
Did the dog eat my abacus?
Where is my dog?
Oh.
I have a cat.
Hello Kitty.
Let me pet your fluffy head.
You're nice and warm.
Let us sit by the fire.
Today is restful.
Perhaps I should sleep.
Goodnight, little kitty.
Goodnight.

JNKCE20250223

Sunday Secrets

Int. Dave's Driveway - Morning

[Dave sits in a deckchair, pretending to read a newspaper while watching his neighbours walk past with various baked goods]

Dave: There goes another one. That's the third Victoria sponge this morning!
Steve: [walking past with a large cake box] Morning Dave!
Dave: Morning! Off anywhere... interesting?
Steve: Sure am! Why else would I have cake?
Dave: Right, right. The usual... thing. With the cake.

[Green approaches as Steve continues walking]

Green: Morning, Dave.
Dave: Greenie! It's Sunday. What are you doing here?
Green: Are you spying on the neighbours again?
Dave: It's not spying! It's cake-based surveillance!
Green: What?
Dave: Every Sunday, they all walk past with cakes and muffins.
Green: Have you asked them?
Dave: I tried asking Steve just now, and he just said he was going somewhere interesting, but didn't say where.

[Dave pulls out a notebook]
Dave: Look, I've made a chart. Mrs Jenkins - one chocolate gateau. Mr Peterson - three cupcakes.
Green: Just three?
Dave: Yeah, not even a whole tray full. And the Wilsons - something that looked suspiciously like a trifle, but I'm not convinced it was.
Green: Maybe they're just having a nice Sunday lunch?
Dave: All of them? Every week? With that many cakes?
Green: Could be a church thing?
Dave: Church?
Green: Well it is Sunday.

[Dave stands dramatically]

Dave: Quick! To the kitchen! We need to make a cake!
Green: Why?
Dave: So we can follow them! Nobody will suspect anything if we're carrying cake too.
Green: Dave, you can't bake.
Dave: I've got plenty of emergency supplies, we can bundle something together.
Green: I can pretty much picture everything in your cupboards, right now, and you can't bake a cake with cola and ... more cola.. and an alarming amount of more cola.
Dave: I have things other than coke in my house, Greenie.
[Greenie stares at Dave]

Dave: Tins of beans. Bread and butter. Those leftover bits of bacon. You liked the bacon the other day, right?
Green: It was a .. little bit crispy.
Dave: It was fine. It'll be fine. We could make something like a bacon and bean sandwich cake. That could be good.
Green: [looking around] I think everyone's already there, by now, Dave. We're a little late.
Dave: Damn. OK, next Sunday. [Pulls out his phone] Lady Computer, remind me next Saturday Night to make a Bacon Bean Bake Cake.
Green: Happy now?
Dave: I sure will be, next Sunday. I'm going to finally figure this mystery out!

[End Credits]