Barnaby Buttonsworth was a most peculiar pig. Not just because he wore a tiny top hat and monocle (which he did), but because Barnaby believed with all his squeaky heart that clouds were made of…laughter.
Now, the other little *children* pigs in Farmer Giles’ yard thought Barnaby was utterly bonkers. “Laughter?!” they’d snort, spraying bits of mud everywhere. “Clouds are made of water, silly!”
But Barnaby wouldn’t be deterred. He decided to embark on a grand *adventure to prove them wrong. He packed a suitcase full of giggle-inducing goodies: a rubber chicken that laid exploding custard pies (for fun*, naturally), a book of incredibly silly knock-knock jokes, and a kazoo that played only polka music.
His journey took him to the top of the tallest oak tree, where he played his kazoo with gusto. He told the knock-knock jokes (much to the bewilderment of a squirrel), and even launched a few custard pies into the air (which, admittedly, didn’t reach the clouds, but did splatter Farmer Giles’ trousers).
Nothing. The clouds remained resolutely, stubbornly…watery.
Disheartened, Barnaby sat beneath the oak, his monocle askew. A little girl, Maisie, with pigtails the color of sunshine, skipped by. She saw Barnaby looking glum.
“What’s wrong, Mr. Pig?” she asked.
Barnaby, near tears, explained his theory about clouds and laughter, and how he’d failed to prove it.
Maisie giggled. “But Mr. Pig,” she said, her eyes sparkling, “laughter is in the clouds! It’s in the *imagination* that makes us see shapes in them! Look!”
She pointed to a cloud shaped like a giant, fluffy bunny rabbit. “Someone, somewhere, is laughing because they saw a bunny in the sky. And that laughter makes the bunny even fluffier!”
Barnaby looked. He’d been so busy trying to force the clouds to change, he hadn’t stopped to actually look at them. And suddenly, Maisie was right! He saw a cloud shaped like a dancing sausage, another like a grumpy tomato, and one that, undeniably, resembled Farmer Giles snoring in his armchair.
He started to giggle. He giggled so much, he practically floated.
Barnaby realized something *educational*. Maisie hadn’t proved his theory right in a scientific way, but she’d shown him something far more important: Imagination is the key to seeing the magic, the fun, and the laughter that’s already all around us. And sometimes, the most important thing is to share that laughter with others.
From that day on, Barnaby Buttonsworth continued his quest, not to prove laughter was in the clouds, but to share it. He performed his silly routines, told his terrible jokes, and launched his custard pies (slightly more carefully now, avoiding Farmer Giles’ trousers). He helped the other *children pigs see the ridiculous beauty in the clouds, and they all learned that the greatest adventure* is finding the laughter within themselves and sharing it with the world. And that, Barnaby thought, was a truly cloud-bursting idea.