Bromford and Wombat …

 

* Good morning, Bromford!

- What's so good about it?

* The sun is shining,
the birds are singing.
Give me one good reaso -

* …and I brought bagels.

- You win today.

»What are you reading, animal? And where did you find my old travel diary about my family-trip to Australia when I was a young kid?«

The llama is lying in the hammock in the living-room looking at some colourful printed pages. From the travel diary it has taken a photograph of me and a family of wombats my parents had taken in the Australian outback on that remarkable journey so many years ago. The animal has leaned the photo against one huge mug of hot hay-tea who is standing on the couch-table.

»This is making me laugh so hard«, the animal giggles.

»Show me that.«

I take the pages away from the llama. They are a comic-strip with four panels about a llama with light fur and some lumpy, grumpy brown creature with arms and legs sitting in an armchair.

»What is this?« I ask. »Did you draw this? And what is this brown creature? Wait a minute… Is this supposed to be me?«

The llama is still giggling.

»Too many questions, dude«, it says. »Let me answer them like this. A comic-strip. No, I had help from some artsy-fartsy intelligence. And yes, it is you, your spitting image. Like cut from your face.«

The llama is roaring with laughter.

»Do you really think this is funny, animal?« I ask. »And isn't the speech bubble in the third panel pointing in the wrong direction? Shouldn't Bromford be saying, 'Give me one good reaso -', to make more sense and the punchline funnier?«

The hammock is dangerously swaying from side to side.

»And this is so not true. You never ever brought or bought any bagles nor anything else for breakfast since you moved into my penthouse apartment in the little house on the rooftop of the apartment building on 666 Whitaker Lane in Bromford, the friendly town by the bay and seaside.«

»Excuse me«, suddenly an unknown voice can be heard in the living-room, »I am only the comic artist. I only do the drawings. Story and text are from the llama. It only gave me the settings and the title of the upcoming series of comic-strips and books,

The Adventures of Llama and Grumpy Gromford.«

»You totally misheard or misunderstood that, you Aussie Bum, you.«

The llama is gathering itself after having finally fallen from the wildly swinging hammock onto the living-room floor.

All of a sudden I notice a hairy face in a video-chat-window on the open laptop the llama has also placed on the couch-table.

»Bromford«, neighs the llama, »I always said Bromford not Gromford. The Adventures of Llama and bumpy Bromford.«

»Bromford?« the voice from the laptop shouts out, »Bromford Bibble? Is that you?«

»Willy Wombat?«

I suddenly recognize that voice and that face.

»My old friend, my travel acquaintance from our trip to the Australian outback all these years ago? Llama, where did you find his address to start a video-call?«

»Just look at the back of that photo of you and the wombat in a matching look, you simple«, the llama says. »But now, leave us alone. We are in the middle of a business meeting here. Willy Wombat, Australia's most successful comic artist, and I are working on the next big thing in comics and animations, even bigger than Southpark or The Simpsons.«

The llama is pushing me out of the living-room.

»Hi, Bromford. Bye, Bromford«, in the hallway I can hear Willy's fading voice from the laptop after the llama has closed the door behind me.

Ever since I was a young boy, I think to myself, I wanted a wombat. And to think that I once voted for a political party that demanded and promised a wombat for every household across the land…

🚾

Today is Wednesday, the 1st of October, 2025.