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Buttertubs Buttertubs

Buttertubs back

Donya Todd


Page 45 Review by Stephen

"Boo hoo" sobs a spoiled little madam, high up in here castellated tower.

"Sob sob sob," she boo hoo hoos.

I don't know why, she's living in Pretty Land above the Sparkle Sea beyond the comparative dowdy Plain Plains. Oh wait, no she doesn't - that's where Princess Puppy known to her friends as PeePee lives, and she's throwing a party. Unfortunately I think the stomping stroppy thing has had her invitation nabbed by the Hotdog Queen and "It's not bloody fair!"

"Oh hush ya royal little wibble shit!"

Yes, just in case you were taken in by pretty cover and the equally colourful My Little Pony pageantry inside, the weenie witch Hotdog Queen sure has a potty mouth and there's going to be race through this bizarre, fantastical quagmire of danger to see who'll get to the party first: the sweary one and her flying pet Booboo or Hester and her friction-free Buttertubs.

Buttertubs, you see, is a great big ball of butter-blubber, constantly dripping and slipping and sliding all over the place. On the very first page it's clearly too close to the camp fire on which Hester's having an eggs and sausage fry up.

I can actually smell the black, soporific clouds of fatty fumes exuded above the frying pan, and I can almost feel the greasy sweet-sweat being constantly exuded by Buttertubs.

I'm not sure what else to tell you. It's all very loud and very energetic with thunder, lightning and mustard rain, plus the most enormously dilated pupils and weird, floppy fronds filling the pages to what must surely be maximum capacity.
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