The Bewitching Triology in 4 Parts - Part 5

Part 4

Part 1

Jonathan the Fox

Here’s a tale of wonder and mystery, of gentle Jonathan the Fox, he who tapped into the songs of the woods, he who could make his harmonica sing to newts and axolotls  and turn frogs back to spawn, he of the gentle smile who always changed from the gentlest of morning breezes to a wild gale when performing, he of the hills and valleys whose force was strong within, he who unknowingly was born to fix that that greatest of glitches, the Curse of the Witch Panda!

Here’s to the origin tale of Gentle Jon the Fox—a mythic melody in fur and breath, whose harmonica held the power to stir ponds and seal cosmic wounds. Let us travel in his paw prints and learn how his mystery meets music and destiny hums beneath the hedgerows.

The Ballad of Gentle Jon the Fox: A Woodland Prelude in Whispering Harmonica

Before the glitch, before the brew,

Before the stags in rhythmic queue

There lived a fox in hills so wide,

Where morning mists and secrets hide.

Jon the Fox, with amber eyes,

Could charm the clouds and calm the skies.

His harmonica, forged from elder bark,

Sang songs that made the newts remark.

“He plays in keys we’ve never known

His notes can turn our tails to stone!”

The axolotls, pink and proud,

Would leap to frogs beneath his cloud.

Then back to spawn with one soft trill

Jon’s breath could bend the woodland will.

He smiled like dew on mossy stone,

But when he played, the winds would groan.

A gentle breeze, a gale unbound,

He once blew the piggies’ house to ground.

Yet never cruel, nor wild for fame,

He wandered hills without a name.

He’d photograph the stags in rutt,

Then play a tune by hazel hut.

Unknowing still, his fate was spun

To fix the glitch the Witch Panda’d begun.

The Curse that bent the beat of time,

That warped the jazz and broke the rhyme.

For deep within his fox born soul,

Lay rhythms that could make worlds whole.

He’d calm the brew, restore the groove,

And teach the cosmos how to move.

“He played not to change the world. Oh No! The world changed to match his song.”

When young, Jon the Fox, spent his free time in the misty hush of a woodland dawn, harmonica in paw, amber eyes aglow with quiet wonder. The moss beneath him moistened with dew, and the trees leant in like old friends to listen. Around him, axolotls shimmered and shifted, frogs and frog spawn alike were enchanted by the gentle spell of his breath-born melody.

This was no ordinary fox. Even in youth, Jon’s tunes rippled through the forest’s soul, hinting at the destiny he’s yet to discover: to calm the glitch, to soothe the brew, to restore the rhythm of the multiverse.

It is said that a great Druid from the mystic reaches of the past of our time had etched these words on a cairn, 

“He played before he knew the world was broken and the world began to mend in anticipation.”

The Great Harmonica Blow-Off of Harlech

A Multiversal Melody in Fox-Lion Minor, when foxes fix glitches, lions glitch into flamingos, and red deer stampede to the sound of blues

Maharaja Miku’s pedal began to wheeze,

Its circuits fried like Cantonese cheese.

The glitch, once looped in eternal delight,

Now sparked and smoked in the dead of night.

The Witch Panda’s brew still bubbled with blues,

Son House’s spirit began to snooze.

The multiverse trembled, jazz cats meowed,

Their syncopation lost, their rhythms bowed.

But far on the hills, where the stags do rutt,

Jon the Fox stood firm, harmonica shut.

He clicked it open, gave it a blow—

And echoes rolled in a calming flow.

The red deer paused, their antlers high,

As harmonica waves kissed the sky.

Son House stirred in the Panda’s stew,

Whispered, “That’s the groove I always knew.”

The glitch was sealed, the cosmos sighed,

Jazz cats groaned but then complied.

They learned to syncopate with flair,

No longer leaning on glitchy air.

But oh! The Flamingo, pink and proud,

Glitched into Dillwyn, lion and loud.

A harmonica player with soulful paws,

Who filled in for Jon with bluesy applause.

Then came the day by Harlech’s shore,

When Jon and Dillwyn prepared to roar.

A blow-off was planned, a duel of reeds,

To see whose breath could calm the steeds.

They played in tandem, then in strife,

Their notes so fierce they bent wildlife.

A million stags, in rhythmic trance,

Charged down the slope in a thunderous dance.

Jon and Dillwyn, eyes wide with dread,

Dropped their harps and swiftly fled.

The blow-off unfinished, the legend grew

Of fox and lion, and what they blew.

The Great Harmonica Blow-Off of Harlech, immortalized in mythic brushstrokes by the great painter Conpigsty! 

Maharaja Jon the Fox and Dillwyn the Lion, mid-duel, harmonicas blazing, have been painted during their rapid descent, fleeing from the thunderous hooves of a million onrushing red deer stags in heat. Harlech Castle looms in the distance, a silent witness to the chaos, while the morning sun casts golden light on swirling dust and gleaming antlers.

Their expressions, an equal blend of awe and horror says it all.

Lord Bygones was to write ‘’When the groove gets wild, even lions run with foxes! Their groove was too powerful, the echoes too wild, and the stampede too majestic to contain. The harmonicas lay scattered, relics of a battle never finished, and the legend looped on in every Welsh breeze.’’

And left behind amidst the universal harmony that was left behind was a faded newspaper titled, The nonsense Chronicle!