Flanders pulled out a chair for the creature by the fire, laying his great grandmother's patchwork quilt atop him. "Feeding time'll be just a jiffy, daffodil salad, scrum-diddly-umptious"
Moleman shuddered at the thought, yet attempted to remain polite for the time being, Ned was a kind man, after all, not one person had ever shown him such kindness prior.
Ned called the family (and mole) to eat. Hans threw the quilt into the fire upon hoisting himself up. The children watched the heirloom shrivel and burn in terror. Moleman attempted to make his way to the kitchen, but, upon the daffodils deterring him, began to run out of the house completely, however, in his blindned state, had only managed to flee to fenced in backgarden.
After 2 minutes of running in circles, Hans stopped to catch his breath. Ned approached him, offering his hand.
"How did you find me here? " the mole sobbed
Flanders lifted the man over his shoulder and brought him back inside.
"I didn't see the fire." Moleman pleaded.
Flanders leaned closer.
"Ohh what are you going to do to poor moleman" he once again, sobbed.
"Nothing at all, neighbourino, mistakes happen, we live and learn"
Hans lifted his head and let out the best grin he could muster the strength to. "I can't eat this."
"Well what can I fix ya, critter?"
"Bugs, and worms"
Flanders, while taken aback, refrained from judgement . "I'll see what I can harvest from the old compostery. I've been fixing to be mixing something fresh and I thank you for the opportunity, little buddy."
------
Moleman, now filled to the brim with insects, began to doze off in his seat, Ned, once again, lifted him, and moved him onto their couch, laying a more expendable blanket atop him. Hans immediately awoke in a flurry, screaming at the top of his lungs. Ned held him in an attempt to quieten him down.
"Ohh" he whined
"What's the Judas to your dreaming, little critter?"
"Just one of my night terrors" he sighed, immediately snapping into another screaming fit. "Day terrors." Another sigh.
"You are a troubled little man" Ned held him closer.
"Ooh, no one ever treats moleman so pitiful"
"I'll admit, critter, having you around does fill some sort of hole in this old Christian's hand."
They gazed at each other in silence for a moment, before puckering their lips in unison. CRACK. "Ohh I sprained my philtrum"
Ned took a moment to absorb the situation before standing up and pointing Hans toward the door. "This isn't working. I can't repent for sinning without even indulging in the sin. We're o-diddly-over. Get OUT"
Before Ned had a moment to reconsider, Moleman nodded, and somberly made his way out, growing accustomed to this sort of treatment in his dozens of years in hardship. Ned stared at that sunken man, producing a bindle, and grabbing somebody else's hat off of the rack to hide his pruned head.
"I'm sorry." Ned sighed
Hans didn't even look back, in muttering: "No one's gay for moleman."
SLAM.
