“I shan’t do it” screamed Stoat.  “They is my feathers what I look dead fetching in and them chickens can grow some more of their own.  I can’t grow feathers can I?  So, it’s logical innit, I get to keep them!  They are, in effect, surplus to those birds requirements, it's not like they hold the key to the Riddle of the Sphinxes, or point to some hidden Aztec Gold is it?”

“What you done to your fur Stoat” enquired Badger, suddenly noticing she had turned a rather fetching shade of aubergine.

“It’s me new hair gel Badge, spiked me fur up really well hasn’t it?”

“But why aubergine?”  he asked.

“It’s a disguise innit, no-one will know it’s me when I next go nest robbing.  Clever aren’t I?”

“Stoat, I told you, return those feathers and stop your thieving ways if you want to play Francesca!” thundered Badger.

“Shan’t!” screamed Stoat loudly bearing her toothy teeth to their full extent, “Shan’t, shan’t, shan’t!”

"Stoat, I have to tell you that I have studied CCTV footage about Tristram the Mollusc.  He has imparted great knowledge about Conus Marmoreus."

"Blimey" stuttered Stoat "Rembrandt made a print one of them  but he got the markings back to front didn't he?  Does this mean we might be off to Amsterdam and the Cafe Bulldog again?"

"No, it means we cultivate Tristram and get him on our side" replied Badger.

"Cultivate a mollusc, oh yeah, like, do I meet him at the Tapas Bar and say, like your shell is dead cool and your slime is quite beguiling" snorted Stoat. "The only escargot I want to cultivate is one cooked with garlic and parsley butter with some French bread to mop up the juices!"

Stoat tiptoed out of the Sett, she was heavily disguised with a conch shell strapped on her back and some old Christmas reindeer antlers strapped to her head.  She was, in effect, trying to look like a gastropod on a hot date with Tristram the Mollusc,  and she had a spray can of slime concealed about her personage (for use in emergencies). As she undulated across the Forest the solitary Vole spotted her “Hola!  Stoat, you off to one of your ‘Special Parties’ then” he chortled.

“Leave it out, I is undercover, on a Mission” replied Stoat, “Although what I have in common with Tristram I dunno, perhaps I should talk about Lizst, I hear Molluscs are mad about him."

"Yeah" replied Vole "That'll get him out of his shell!" and off he scampered, giggling merrily.  "Just you wait until I gets this on You Tube, Stoat dressed as a Gastropod, it don't bear thinking about!"

Meanwhile, at the Tapas Bar, Stoat attempts to engage Tristram in conversation. “Your shell is nice” she said

“It is in one piece and typically coiled or spiralled and opens on the right hand side (as viewed with the shell apex pointing upward). Several of our species have an operculum that operates as a trapdoor to close the shell.”

“Never” breathed Stoat,  breathily, “How fascinating, mind if I smoke?  I did hear that Gastropod fossils may sometimes be confused with ammonites or other shelled cephalopods” remarked Stoat, inhaling deeply.

“What a fascinating creature you are and what wonderful Sargosso sea green eyes,” breathed Tristram “Fancy a nightcap back at mine?”

Just then Stoat’s mobile went off.  “Hullo, hullo, are you receiving me, get back to Base Camp immediately, we have Urgent News and get that Mollusc here as well!”

Back at base camp, Henrietta was discussing Tristram with Badger:
'Don't you think there is something a bit, well erm how can I put this? sinister about him?'
'No, don't be daft, he's dextral!' replied Badger

(Sorry, conchologists joke there)

sorry to interrupt these animalistic proceedings in mid-moo, but why on earth does the page showing who's online bring up a google ad for "Rare Cribbage boards"? 

Oh, I read it as Rare Cabbage Board!

This is a rare cabbage: