This is Toobaa after the Ego has been slapped out of her.


Toobaa growled and growled. Naughty A Levels. BAD A levels. The ‘A’, it would seem, was little more than an assimilation vowel between the clear and sharp rap of two other undermining consonants; one terribly average and the other shamefully confusing. The string of stars had been chewn to pieces and she had only just noticed.

She had first met Ego at 6AM. Super-ego and Id were both eloquently trying to impress her with their rhetoric.

Id: You owe no duty of care. You should not respond. Go back to sleep.
Super-ego: You certainly do owe a duty of care! Wake up!

Ego tried to mediate but Toobaa knew better. She knew that, theoretically, women weren’t thought to have much of a Super-ego at all. I know what you’re playing at. Snooze.

And yet, she had been ruthlessly purified. Arrogance and pride, even as regards one’s spelling, is punishable and punishable by awe-inspiring ruin.

Why don’t we take a few steps back, Toobaa… What do you say?

Look- Cover- Write- Check! There’s a good girl!

[Ego-slap: Noun. A term referring to any event, expected or unexpected, which is reasonably drastic in humbling a person or group of persons. (Source: Toobaa’s Gymnalinguistics Dictionary, p.49835)]