lambton worm

[FOLKLORE FILES]

Case ID: FF-003
Subject: The Witch / Lambton Worm Pact
Status: DECLASSIFIED –
Origin: Northern Folklore Repository, Dept. of Mythic Affairs

INTERVIEW TRANSCRIPT RECOVERED DECLASSIFIED
Interviewer: “”INT”]”
Subject: Lambton Worm“ “LW.”” [Currently residing in Legends Retirement Home

The woodchip wallpaper was a sea of braille, nicotined in a sepia hue of broken dreams.
If I ran my hand over the bumpy mass, I reckon it would read me a story of heroes and villains in the time of enchantment and magic…
I sank into a deep red armchair and opened my brand new notebook like a white accordion of swans’ wings.
I feel I am in the presence of Ozymandius, weighed by legacy, weighed by mythology, weighed by Doritos and Pineapple Spritzers.
I curiously pointed out a packet of Persil soap powder balanced precariously on top of the wall-mounted Plasma TV.
He replied nonchalantly, “I couldn’t find the Ariel. Its a 1970s gag for his old friends who rarely drop in…
I laughed weakly.
The atmosphere dropped to minus zero.
A rather intrusive gramophone needle was stuck on the middle bit of Beethoven’s Moonlight Sonata; it had been like that for 15 years.
I was ready—ready to record a unique interview with the Lambton Worm. Here resides a legend layered in cotton blankets and
misunderstandings—a twisted tale that needs straightening out.
I hold no bias or judgment towards this wounded worm, only a deepening curiosity to find the facts from the folklore.

INT: Can you tell me the story in your own words, a tale that has been cemented in myth?
LW: “I’ll tell you an aawful story” – not sure if there’s cement involved – there’s been a lot of songs written – to which I haven’t received a penny in royalties, I may add.
INT: We would like to hear it from the horses – pardon me – the worm’s mouth.
LW: John was a canny lad. We have known each other since we were kids. We were like two peas in a pod and liked the same type of music, such as Lute Grime, and we drank copious amounts of Mead, basically we got up to all sorts of hijinks, including knockie-nine doors. But the castles were too far apart, it took up most of the day, running from Castle to Castle and some of them had moats. Then one day, he went in a huff about something I can’t remember, and angrily pushed me down the Village Well.
I think we might have argued about the 4:4 timing of a madrigal; my memory is hazy.
Then he went off to join a band called The Crusaders, a four-piece influenced by Nazareth.

INT: Erm… I think you might be a bit confused about Nazareth.
LW: Whatever. And after several years, he returned, a changed man, coz touring does that to you – at that time I had grown canny big coz of the chemicals in the well. I was massive. The locals were feeding me loads of cows and sheep. I tried to join Weight Watchers, but I couldn’t fit into the church. Then I caught Covid AD19, my sneezes destroyed most of the village – it wasn’t my fault, I had big nostrils.
INT: According to legend, you terrorised the local community in Lord Lambton’s absence.
LW: When they ran out of cows and sheep to feed me well, I may have been slightly ravenous to say the least, I mean a worm cannot live on berries alone. But hey, I was no Jabberwocky.

INT: So when he returned, he hunted you down?
LW: Well, sort of. We disagreed about the timing of another madrigal, and he went and cut me in two—us worms are urodele
amphibians, you know—that’s how my cousin Leonard came about: “If you cut me in two, another is born.” That’s a Worm truism right there, because we can regenerate. Most of my extended family came about by genetic severance. Leonard and Ulysses are my other two halves, so to speak.
INT: That is so interesting, are they still alive?
LW: On the other side of town – mind Leonard is very difficult and Ulysses is a bit of a scatterbrain, you know like the novel?
INT: Can’t say I’ve read it. You wouldn’t mind if I interviewed them for their side of the story?
LW: Knock yourself out.
The Worm suddenly dropped into a trance, shook his head and…

LW: Where was I? Oh yes… We had a bit of a skirmish—big deal—but he had to get a witch involved, didn’t he? I tried one ages ago when I was radgey, but I’m allergic to frogs.
INT: A Witch, you say?
LW: Exactly, through WitchApp, so before he cut me up like a Bavarian sausage, the Witch told him he had to kill the first living thing he met as a sacrifice, because she gave him special armour and a very, very sharp sword. They both agreed that Fred, their pet tortoise, would be the sacrifice, but to be frank, not Fred – they hadn’t thought it through coz that would have taken the tortoise 10 years and it would have only reached the garden gate.
Excited at hearing of my supposed demise, his Dad ran to meet him, overtaking Fred, forgetting about the pact with the witch.
Thenceforth, a curse befell the family coz Lambton bottled out and didn’t slug his Dad. I heard a family member has recently broken their fingernail, so I’ll probably get the blame.
He points over to the bookcase, which was rammed with multi-coloured folders –
LW: The Curse Cases, I use them for the fire.
He shuffles in his armchair. Eyes drooping. Yawns with a mouth the size of the window.
LW: I’m afraid you’ll have to leave now Sonny. It’s time for my afternoon nap.
I pack up my Zoom recorder and ask him one last question:
INT: I heard Lord Lambton is also here, in the Care Home.
LW: Aye, next door – he keeps me up all hours.
INT: Pray tell me…What does he do?
LW: He sews… Relentlessly.

Case ID: FF-003
Subject: The Witch, the Worm, and the Caravan Park
Extracted from field recording.

INTERVIEW TRANSCRIPT – PARTIALLY RECOVERED
Interviewer: “(INT”) Subject: “(W)” [Unlicensed Witch,
currently operating “Hexhaven Caravan Park & Launderette”]