Un tro, roedd Daf y gath yn cael profiad seicedelig ar ben y bin. Roedd yr heulwen yn brydferth, ac roedd y pilipalas ym mhobman yn yr ardd, ac yn ei ymennydd ei hun.
Gan amlaf, byddai Jeff y gath yn osgoi edrych ar y tatws. Roedd hi’n bywsig iawn i beidio dal eu llygaid, rhag ofn iddynt ddechrau bloeddio am bethau diflas. Ond ar ôl i Mistar Penglog hollti’r Prifdaten, roedd y tawelwch yn boenus. Fel arfer, byddai’r tatws wedi dewis Prifdaten newydd erbyn hyn, ond yn amlwg yr oedd y tro hwn yn wahanol. Syllodd Jeff ar y gweithgareddau a oedd yn mynd ymlaen yng ngwely y llysiau.
Dau pâr o datws a oedd yn enwedig o gryf cariodd dau arch fach i lan ramp a’u llwytho i fewn i’r sosban fach, a oedd yn aros yn amyneddgar. Cododd bob un par baner wen â delwedd o’r hen Brifdaten arni. Saliwtiasant.
Llenwyd y sospan â dwr. Tannwyd tân. Berwyd yr hen Prifdaten am chwarter awr, wrth i Gor Meibion Ffosgoch ganu cân hapus am whilber o faw. O’r diwedd, gwacawyd y sosban, agorwyd yr eirch, a stwnsiwyd olion yr hen Prifdaten gan daten mawr, fel aberthiad i dduwiau tatws. Llygadrythodd Jeff ar y digwyddiadau mewn arswyd.
Yr eiliad hon, dihunodd Daf y gath o’i brofiad seicedelig.
– Fyddi di byth yn dyfalu beth dw i newydd weld, meddai.
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Saesneg / English
The Old Prime Potato’s Funeral
One day, Dave the cat was having a psychedelic experience on top of the bin. The sunlight was beautiful, and the butterflies were everywhere in the garden, and in his own mind.
Most of the time, Jeff the cat would avoid looking at the potatoes. It was very important not to catch their eyes, in case they started shouting about boring things. But after Mr. Skull split the Prime Potato, the silence was worrying. Usually, the potatoes would have chosen a new Prime Potato by now, but this time was obviously different. Jeff stared at the activities that were going on in the vegetable bed.
Two pairs of potatoes, who were obviously strong, carried two little coffins up a ramp and loaded them into the little saucepan, which was waiting patiently. Each one of them lifted up a white flag with a picture of the old Prime Potato on it. They saluted.
The saucepan was filled with water. A fire was lit. The old Prime Potato was boiled for a quarter of an hour, while the Ffosgoch Male Voice Choir sang a happy song about a wheelbarrow of manure. In the end, the saucepan was emptied, the coffins were opened, and the remains of the old Prime Potato were mashed as a sacrifice to the potato gods. Jeff stared at the events in horror.
That moment, Dave the cat awoke from his psychedelic experience.
– You’ll never guess what I’ve just seen, he said.
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