Help support this artist!

Challenge #01443-C348: Mrs Widgery's Guests

Morris Dancers! To the tune of "Mrs Widgery's Lodger". -- Anon Guest

[AN: For anyone wondering what the flying heck - here you go. I apologise in advance for the mental trauma.]

There were white-clad humans wearing bells on their shins. Each one carried a large, white kerchief in each hand. Except for the one of them that was wrestling an accordion into submission.

The ones with the kerchiefs were skipping about, legs ringing, to the slow and grinding tune.

"What are they doing?" said B'kizz.

"I have no idea," murmured T'renth. "We could find a human and ask them..."

"And get an explanation we didn't want? No, thank you. Just... look up the guide of events."

T'renth did so. "The guide says it is... 'morris dancing'..."

The dancers all yelled, "Hey!" at once, and kept dancing.

"And it goes on to explain that it is an ancient Pagan spring rite borrowed from travellers from Africa[1]... even though it is a mainly european occupation."

B'kizz absorbed this information. "Well and good, but why are they doing this here? It's a space station. There's no such thing as seasons."

T'renth read. "Many humans believe that the morris encourages bountiful crops and an increase of desired growth in domesticated plants. Scientific studies have also found a link between the dance and the expected results."

B'kizz boggled. "How in the name of the Powers did they figure out a double-blind test for that?"

"It's a human thing," said T'renth. "It really is best to not ask."

[1] Morris Dancing is a corruption of the words "Moorish Dancing" and there's some evidence that it's an import into northern climes.

(Muse food remaining: 12. Submit a Prompt! Ask a question! Buy my stories! Or comment below!)