MY KEYS! Stolen by a FERRET! (He’s playing them like a TINY ORCHESTRA! Also, vibrational frequency! And squirrels!)

My Keys! Oh, My Stars and Sprockets!

Right then! Lost my keys! It's a right pickle, isn't it? A proper kerfuffle! You wouldn’t believe the important things those little fellas unlock! Not just doors, you see. Oh no. They unlock possibilities. They’re practically miniature portals! I read somewhere – and it was in a very credible pamphlet I found next to a badger – that the average set of keys holds the vibrational frequency of approximately 7.3 gigawatts! Can you imagine?! That's enough to power a small village! Or, at the very least, a really impressive collection of glow-in-the-dark garden gnomes.

Now, I think I had them just a moment ago. I was just admiring them, you see. They’re a beautiful set. My house keys are all brass, of course. Standard. But the car key? Oh, that's a marvel! It’s got a little… sparkle. Not real sparkle, mind you. It’s a special coating – invented by a brilliant but slightly eccentric inventor named Professor Fitzwilliam Flutterbottom. He claimed it enhanced the car’s mileage by attracting tiny, benevolent dust bunnies. It’s all very scientific, really.

I’m usually very careful with my keys. You see, my great-aunt Mildred was a famous locksmith – though she preferred to call herself a "Guardian of Entry." She taught me all sorts of tricks. Like, you can tell a person’s personality by the way they jingle their keys! A gentle jingle? They’re probably a poet! A loud, chaotic clatter? A champion yodeler! I’m somewhere in between, I suppose. A medium-loud clatter, with a hint of poetic grace.

Now, where could they be? I’ve looked everywhere! Under the sofa cushions – where I found a rather splendid collection of lost buttons and a single, very confused-looking earthworm. Behind the potted fern – which, by the way, is producing unusually large leaves this year. It's probably absorbing the key's vibrational frequency, I suspect. Absolutely fascinating!

I also checked inside my hat. You never know! Once, I found a lost pineapple in my hat. Don't ask. It's a long story involving a traveling circus and a mislabeled fruit basket.

Oh dear! I’m getting distracted. Back to the keys! They’re probably communicating with the squirrels, you know. They’re very keen on shiny objects. I read a scholarly paper – published by the International Society of Squirrel Studies, naturally – that detailed their complex system of bartering using bottle caps and… well, apparently, keys.

Right! I need to retrace my steps. I went to the market, I picked up a lovely bunch of rutabagas – excellent for attracting hummingbirds, by the way – and then I went to the library. I was reading a fascinating treatise on the migratory patterns of paperclips. Riveting stuff! Perhaps they fell out at the library?

Oh! Wait a minute! I remember! I was showing Bartholomew – that’s my pet ferret, a remarkably intelligent fellow – how to do a jaunty little dance. He's quite the performer, you know. I must have dropped them then!

Bartholomew! Bartholomew, where are my keys?!

(Sound of rustling and a ferret chittering)

There! He’s got them! The little rascal! He’s using them as tiny musical instruments! Oh, that’s adorable!

They are now safely returned. Time for tea.