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Welcome back to Bedtime Stories, BBC Radio 2's 500 words podcast.
The one and only place where you can listen to some awesome 500 word stories written by you and read by the BBC Radio Drama Company.
He's Dick.
Hello.
And I'm Dom.
And today's theme is Better Together.
Thank you.
This marble run is going to look fantastic when it's done, Dom.
If we ever get it done.
We've got to get this marble run to John O'Groats by tomorrow morning and then through Germany and France, let alone building a structure big enough to get over Tyrone the dinosaur.
Can you pass the hammer?
Thank you.
Oh, no.
I think we need some help, Dom.
This marble run needs to be large enough to span the whole of Europe.
We're going to need a little help from our friends.
Maybe you're right, mate.
And things are much more fun when friends are on board.
I'll call everyone we know.
Tell them we'll treat them to singing and storytelling.
Yeah, great.
I'll get our first story ready.
OK, I'll be back in a jiffy.
Put the kettle on and knock out some delicious scones.
The Old Guitarist Brian was an old guitarist who lived on the streets.
He had no friends or family, just a hat, a tatty blue suit and an old guitar.
He loved Christmas because he got to go to the community centre and have tea.
When he did, he got a lovely glow in his cheeks.
It was too bad it was summertime, but he was still excited for Christmas.
Every day, when he was out and about in the town feeling lonely and hungry, people gave him funny looks.
He knew that he looked messy and dirty because he didn't have the means to keep himself clean.
Once he had had a nice house and a good job playing in a band.
He had had nice clothes to wear and plenty of good food to eat.
His luck changed when his band got less popular and people stopped buying their records and booking their gigs.
He struggled to get enough money to pay the bills and eventually he lost his house and all his belongings and he ended up on the streets.
One day, as he sat outside the shopping centre playing his guitar with his hat on the ground, he hoped people would give him some coins, as he'd had a couple of bad days and was starving.
Luckily, it was a sunny day and there were lots of people about.
Soon.
He had enough money for a sandwich and a hot drink, and while he was thinking about what he could get to eat, he looked up and noticed that a crowd had appeared around him and were clapping in time to the music.
Can this be for me? he thought.
He turned around and noticed that another busker had joined him.
Joey?
Is that you?
I haven't seen you since the band split up.
His old bandmate was playing along with him a song that they had written years ago but had never played in public.
The crowd were loving it.
The two guitars playing together making a magical sound.
It was truly wonderful.
People were dancing and now someone was drumming against a metal bench and some teenagers were beatboxing.
He wanted the song to go on and on forever.
But when it eventually came to an end, there was an almighty cheer from the crowd and people were filling up the hat with coins.
Brian shared the money with his old bandmate and right at the bottom of the hat, he found a note.
Call me if you're interested in recording this.
Emily Jones, Head of Music Production, Universal Records.
Brian Joey and the beatboxers from the shopping centre formed a new band and, with help from Emily at Universal, their song A Happy Home for Christmas made number one in the charts.
Brian had the best Christmas ever in his new house.
He made a feast of roast turkey with all the trimmings and invited everyone from the community centre to join him and share his joy.
Tyrone King to see Dr Rose Gummeridge, please, called the receptionist over the dentist's intercom.
No response.
Tyrone King, she repeated.
Rita, the receptionist, peered around the corner to find a 12-foot Tyrannosaurus Rex trying to get into the dentist's office.
In shock, Rita could do nothing but stare.
Using his tiny hands.
Tyrone the T-Rex attempted six times to open the dentist's door, but when he finally managed it, he realised he couldn't fit through the doorway anyway.
Hearing the commotion, Dr Gummeridge looked up.
Trepidation immediately filled her, but before she could scream, she realised that she wasn't the only one trembling in fear.
The dinosaur was shaking and it was obvious that he was terrified of the dentist.
My tooth hurts, said Tyrone in a small voice.
Small for a dinosaur, that is.
Dr. Gumridge decided to do her examination in the car park to give them some more room.
Open wide, said the dentist, and as Tyrone opened his massive jaw, she almost fainted.
His breath smelt of mouldy cheese and old socks, but ten times worse.
She had never come across a smell like it before and even from a distance could see almost all of his banana-sized teeth were black.
What an awful-looking set of teeth.
I've never seen anything like this before.
When was the last time you saw the dentist, Mr King? asked Dr Gummeridge, looking doubtful.
About 65 million years ago, mumbled Tyrone, a bit ashamed.
The dentist shook her head sadly.
She tried to take a closer look, but Tyrone was too tall and she couldn't reach high enough, and her instruments were too small for his massive jaw.
Thinking for a moment.
She said come back in a week and I'll be sure your teeth will be as clean as they'll ever be.
Tyrone arrived a week later to find Dr Gummeridge had assembled a whole crew.
Four gardeners, three builders, two plasterers and the fire brigade from the local village.
Armed with a face mask each, she set them to work on her clever plan.
The gardeners used their hose to scrape out all the rotting meat from between Tyrone's teeth.
The builders used a cement mixer to mix the filling for all the nasty cavities.
The plasterers filled the holes and smoothed the mixture down.
The gardeners used sweeping brushes to brush his teeth and the fire brigade rinsed his mouth with their powerful hoses.
Four hours later, his teeth were as clean as freshly washed clothes.
Tyrone was delighted.
He thanked the dentist, but she declined the thanks and said he owed it just as much to everyone who helped with cleaning his teeth, which he happily did.
As Tyrone set off to show off his new and improved teeth to all his dino friends, Dr Gummeridge called after him.
Maybe don't leave it so long next time.
The dinosaur winked, flashed her a sparkling smile and carried on into the distance.
BBC Radio 2's 500 Words.
The Bedtime Stories podcast.
OK, Belinda, bring the ladder down from Tyrone's tail.
Gardeners, if we could attach this section to the forest in Northumberland, that would be fantastic.
Thank you.
We'll need to get this section running underwater.
So start digging, everyone.
Plumbers, it's time for you to start working your magic.
Thanks, Pip.
The paintwork's really coming on.
Where are the electricians?
We're going to need the fairy lights lit soon so that everyone can see where to place the marbles.
This is going to look as fantastic as Tyrone the dinosaur's teeth.
Aha!
The scones for the next story are ready, Dom.
Tell everyone to put down their tools and eat.
Oh, we are making such good progress with this marble run.
I think we can manage a bit of jam and cream as well, actually.
The characters in the next story can take over the build whilst we have a good long relax.
Where's your guitar, mate?
Strum us a few chords, won't you?
Some things scone wrong.
It's scone, cried the Queen.
No, it's scone, cried a very terrified sergeant.
Nobody knew what it was.
Scone?
Scone?
It's definitely scone.
If you're a scone hater, then you are definitely not British.
It even says so in the ABCDEFG Thank You Scones for Feeding Me law book.
This challenging word has been going on for centuries.
I'm sure there's going to be war over it one day.
"'Order!
Order!' roared the judge.
"'The Queen has decided a law over the word scone.
"'If anyone is to be heard saying the word S-C-O-N-E "'will be sentenced to at least twelve years of utter misery "'and will be locked up in the deepest, darkest dungeon "'where they only serve cold tea.
"'Any questions, please speak now.'
Do they serve coffee? asked Geoffrey Bourbon.
Oh yes, but they don't have sugar.
A huge gasp abounded the audience.
This was shocking.
Even the Prime Minister was a little bit annoyed.
Then, when no one was expecting, someone from Bean Party shouted, SCONE!
Suddenly, ten policemen wrestled him to the ground and were soon dragged out to his twelve years of utter misery.
The next morning I woke up to find protesters outside my house, all holding huge banners saying and chanters roaring out gibberish.
As I turned away, I heard a splat on my window.
It was red and sticky.
Was it jam?
When I looked out again, I saw Mr and Mrs Bloomsbottom holding a huge cannon, but instead of filling it with cannonballs, they were filling it with cream and strawberry jam.
What are you doing?
I asked.
Filling me cannons, dear.
The bombs are too heavy, they'll do me back in, she replied.
Come and help me if you'd like.
Some huge sort of beef is on in London.
Apparently it's World War III.
That sounds fun, I shouted back.
But World War III?
Qua blimey!
I rushed downstairs and collected all the jam I could find, and then rushed outside to help my fellow citizens.
OK then, ma'am.
Let's go win this for us scone rejecters.
An hour later, we arrived in London.
Sure enough, there were millions of people.
You could see people loading their slingshots and cannons and people getting ready to fight.
When we had finished loading up our things, we heard a loud bang.
Then people from the scum side came rushing in.
Cannons and bombs were shot and fired.
Then I felt a pain hit my leg.
As I looked down, I saw red blood squirting out.
I've been shot, I cried, but then I tasted it.
Oh, it's only jam.
More cream came rushing our way and more cream came rushing their way.
But then there was a halt.
Hang on, why don't we just call it a sweet sandwich, someone said.
Oh yeah, good idea.
Cream then jam, brilliant.
No.
Jam then cream, debated someone else.
Oh no, it had started again.
The people of Britain were squabbling over Brexit and could not come to an agreement.
Eventually, Mrs May could bear no more arguments and debates, so she stood up in Parliament and announced All the people of Britain must work together as a team.
We must build the longest marble run that Europe has ever seen.
All around Parliament, there were disapproving mutterings about wasteful use of plastic.
"'Order!
Order!' cried the Speaker.
"'Our Prime Minister must be heard!'
This marble run should be eco-friendly and made of recycled materials, Mrs May declared.
The architects of London volunteered constructing a marble run through the entire city, and the engineers of Glasgow offered to assemble one running across the whole of Scotland.
Then the designers of Yorkshire advised building one as big as the county, but the developers of Kent boasted they could create one that stretched to the far coast of Cornwall.
The entire population wanted to be involved and, to Mrs May's frustration, everyone was bickering again.
Finally, the people of Ireland suggested it could run throughout the United Kingdom.
The nation enthusiastically agreed and started gathering materials.
Garages all over Britain started soldering time-worn exhaust pipes.
Plumbers and builders collected old copper and steel pipes and joined them securely.
Teachers and schoolchildren helped by finding cardboard tubes from kitchen rolls or wrapping paper and sticking them together.
Busyly at home.
Everyone was preserving tins and other cylindrical, tube-like objects for their giant marble run.
Cardboard lying around in factories and offices was curved into loop-the-loops, spirals and bends.
At the highest cliff of John O'Groats, the work had begun.
The plan was to start from the northern coast of Scotland to the southern shores of England.
In every hamlet village, town and city of every county, people were ferociously connecting their tubes, ready to add to the lengthening marble run.
In Northumberland, everyone was waiting impatiently and applauded when they glimpsed it approaching.
They added their tubes as far as Durham and so it went, on and on down the country.
Towers and tall buildings were used to stop the track sinking too low, and bridges carried it across rivers.
On Friday 29th March it was finished and huge crowds gathered.
Fortunately it was sunny and dry with a northerly breeze to help the marble along.
Mrs May placed the marble in the start position and off it went.
It began at tremendous speed, dipping and flying around the loops and curves.
The marble reached the London Eye and spiralled swiftly round the luminous structure.
Then there was a colossal uphill stretch.
No one thought the marble would make it as it slowed towards the peak.
At the top of the slope it hesitated and the onlookers gasped.
But luckily it toppled forward and sped on to land's end.
The queen spoke.
Everyone has worked truly harmoniously and I am delighted Britain is reunited.
Everybody cheered so loudly they could be heard on the coast of France.
BBC Radio 2's 500 Words.
The Bedtime Stories podcast.
What do you mean you didn't patch up the marble runs hole over London Dom?
We need to patch it up quickly or there'll be marbles all over the streets of London.
Do we know anyone with an aeroplane who can get to those great heights?
Diddy Dick and Dom, of course.
Dick and Dom to Diddy Dick and Dom.
Over.
We need your help.
Do you read?
Coming from high in the skies above London, Dick and Dom were here to help, over.
We need your Diddy aeroplane to fly a Diddy mile to the section of the Marble Run above the city of London.
There's a hole, and if we don't patch it up, there'll be a catastrophe.
Over.
Do not fear.
A Diddy aeroplane can travel under tiny feet and over the highest towers in next to no time.
Over.
Yay!
Oh, Diddy, Nick and Dom, how can we thank you both?
A good brew and a Diddy-sized scone.
Scone, scone, scone, scone, scone, scone.
We'll go down a treat.
Consider it done.
So, what are we going to do with all this leftover wood, Dom?
I think I have an idea.
He has an idea!
I've got an idea!
Sara Tanako handed the wooden giraffe to the boy, smiling warmly.
This was one of her many bamboo creations for the children of her village.
They watched in excitement as she carved the next animal, her frail bony hands chiselling away at the chunk of bamboo.
She tucked her greying hair behind her ear as she worked, her dark, mysterious eyes fixated on the tiny creature.
She handed the last creation, a tiny panda, to a timid girl, then hobbled into her rickety hut.
The next morning, there was a roll of parchment on her doorstep, fastened with a scarlet ribbon.
She rarely got mail.
She had no relatives left alive and her only friends were the group of local children.
As she carefully unrolled the paper, her face fell.
The letter read Mr Narko, Emperor Stamatu has heard of your skills and would like you to make beautiful animals for him.
The guards will arrive to pick you up at three o'clock.
F Wong, Emperor's assistant.
She knew the Emperor had no offspring of his own and wanted to stop the local children's fun.
A few hours later, there was a heavy knock on the door.
She was greeted by two huge, gruff-looking men.
Miss Tanako, they said.
Yes, stammered Sara, bowing humbly.
You must come with us.
Sara Tanako followed the guards unwillingly.
The palace was huge, with red carpets and lanterns everywhere.
She was led through winding passages to a dark, dank room with only one lantern for light.
All the necessary equipment for your craft is in the box in the corner.
You were to make animals for the Emperor now.
With that, the guards slammed the door and bolted it shut.
Sarah accepted her fate and knelt down to work.
A year passed.
Miss Tanako's life just didn't feel the same without the children for company.
The youngsters felt empty and bored without Sarah to brighten up their days.
Sarah's days felt like weeks and her weeks felt like months.
Slowly, her sadness became too much to bear.
That night, as she rested her head on the stone floor, she heard the guards' footsteps on the stairs.
She heard the emperor bellowing orders at his servants.
She heard the call of a passing crow.
There and then she knew those would be the last sounds she would hear.
There was a glint of white silver against the purple foaming clouds.
The dragon spotted the shivering Miss Tanako curled up on the floor of the great palace.
The creature slid through the window and gazed at the old woman.
He picked her up delicately and left.
Since then, every night, old Miss Tanako's spirit soars high in the sky on the dragon.
Beautiful animals made of stardust rain down and dance for the infants.
Although Sara Tanako was no longer with the children in body, she was there in spirit and still made them smile every day.
BBC Radio 2's 500 Words.
Bedtime Stories.
Mind the Gap.
It was a usual London day.
Criminals fleeing crime scenes and busy workers travelling back and forth on the fabulous London Underground.
It was a hot summer afternoon and temperatures in the Underground Station at Tower Hill were sweltering.
As commuters entered and exited the trains, the platform announcer boomed over the speakers.
Mind the gap.
Now most people think that the gap is the space between the train and the platform.
Little do people know that the gap is actually a small, hairy creature who lives in the cracks and caverns of the various underground stations.
Now you probably think it's a terrifying creature that gobbles you up if you trip over and fall in.
But think again.
Because the species of the Gap are actually a friendly bunch.
The Gap who lives at Tower Hill is called Albert.
Albert has made friends with a human named Charlie.
Charlie was six at the time and was visiting London with his family.
They were staying in a cool hotel in the city with views over Tower Bridge.
That day they walked to Tower Hill Station and were waiting for a train when, out of the corner of Charlie's eye, he saw something move on the tracks.
He thought to himself, maybe it's a stray animal.
Charlie was quite brave with animals, unlike his older brother.
A train had just arrived and he was about to have the most wonderful day of his life when he fell in and they made eye contact.
Sitting, looking dumbstruck was Charlie.
Directly opposite him was Albert.
They immediately became friends.
Once they eventually tugged him out, Albert came out as well and was no longer hiding in darkness from society.
Charlie took him to the amazing London Zoo and they saw every animal you could imagine in your wildest dreams.
Their favourites were the monkeys doing breathtaking tricks like swinging from branch to branch, and the joyful jaguars pouncing and playing, beaming with satisfaction.
After they'd looked at the astonishing animals, they were famished, so they went to get some food at the cafe.
Charlie picked a colossal burger and Albert stole Charlie's chips.
They greedily demolished their food.
They started ambling back to the nearest train station, Baker Street.
They went underground and Albert heard the speaker boom, Mind the Gap.
Albert looked around and saw a cavern in the track edge.
He jumped down and saw another gap.
He said, hello, and a female gap replied, hi, I thought I was the only one.
Albert was in love immediately.
He said to her, I'm Albert, what's your name?
And she replied, Zara.
Albert thought, what a beautiful name.
He said to Zara, come and meet my good friend Charlie.
Albert and Zara then went up to the platform and he introduced her to Charlie.
So next time you're in the underground stations and the announcer says mind the gap, have a quick peek for Albert and Zara.
BBC Radio 2's 500 Words.
The Bedtime Stories podcast.
We hope you enjoyed this episode of Bedtime Stories.
Make sure to like and subscribe.
And if 500 Words has inspired you to keep writing, here's a tip from our friends at Oxford University Press.
The language of character.
Which words could you use to describe different characters in your story?
There are loads to choose from.
How about spindly, rosy, hefty or chic?
Make your main character the star of the story, and remember the names you choose can give your readers clues about your characters.
If you had a queen called Tipsy Whipsy, how would she behave?
Or what about an alien called Glob?
What would it look like?
So, from everyone here at Radio 2 and 500 Words... Good luck and goodnight!
BBC Radio 2's 500 Words.
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