In Lucy’s throat lived two tonsils — twins, as it happened. One was named Ton and the other Tom, and they were, to put it plainly, trouble.
“Hello, Ton,” said Tom one morning. “Up to mischief?”
“Indeed I am,” said Ton cheerfully. “Causing all the trouble I can. You?”
“Doing everything I can think of — and I’ve still got plenty of pranks left. Our friend Susy Sore Throat is coming today, you know. She’s a mean one.”
“I know. And she’s bringing her half-brother Ronald Raw Throat.”
“I think we’ll have a fine party,” said Ton, puffing up with excitement. “Already I feel bigger.”
“So do I,” said Tom. “This throat is a perfect home for us. Lots of room to grow.”
And they did grow. They grew big with pride — which is, as they themselves admitted, rather the point.
“Things with nothing to be proud of are usually the most conceited,” said Tom. “And those who are modest are usually the ones who can actually do things.”
Still, they kept on growing. Along came Susy Sore Throat and her brother Ronald Raw Throat, and their cousins Carrie Cold and Clarence Cough. They threw parties in Lucy’s throat — little parties and big parties and all manner of uncomfortable parties.
The Adenoid Cousins, tucked nearby, piped up: “Don’t forget us!”
“Never,” promised the Tonsil Twins.
But one day Lucy had had enough. She went to see a doctor — a very capable doctor who had promised to evict the twins — and though it wasn’t at all pleasant to think about, she was brave. The twins wouldn’t leave by asking nicely. Harsh measures were needed. But Lucy was braver than the Tonsil Twins deserved.
The doctor took the twins out, and the Adenoid Cousins too, and the Tonsils wept red tears as they left.
“It was all our own fault,” they admitted to each other, “for behaving as we did.”
