Image Description : A warmly illustrated courtroom scene beneath the bread bin lid shows the moment of biscuit justice. On the left, Lady Biscotti stands confidently, her long platinum blonde hair styled in soft, Farrah Fawcett-style waves. She wears a smart buttercream blazer, biscuit-shaped earrings, and holds a camera, ready to document the trial. In front of her sits Biggie, a large, pale-coloured Labrador–Retriever mix, calm and watchful as the trusted Biscuit hound.
Across from them on the right stands Sir Dunkalot—a man with tousled dark blonde hair, wearing an open denim shirt over a t-shirt. He looks sheepish and is holding a ginger nut in one hand while explaining himself with the other.
Behind them, an improvised biscuit court is in session. Anthropomorphic biscuits—Party Rings, Custard Creams, Bourbons, and more—sit or stand nearby, each with arms, legs, and expressive biscuit faces reacting to the drama. A Jammy Dodger looks concerned. A Bourbon looks deeply disappointed.
At the centre back, elevated like a judge’s bench, sits Judge Hobnob, a stern-faced hobnob biscuit wearing a white wig. He holds a large wooden spoon like a gavel. The scene is drawn in soft pastel tones with a vintage storybook feel, perfectly capturing the quirky courtroom tension of the moment.
Part Three – Order In The Biscuit Court
Things are heating up in the kitchen courtroom. With the evidence stacked like a biscuit tin tower, can justice be served? Or will Sir Dunkalot crumble under pressure?
The courtroom—held beneath the bread bin lid—was packed. Rows of biscuits sat in silence. Party Rings looked shocked. Fig Rolls kept muttering. A single Bourbon was weeping. At the front sat the firm but fair Judge Hobnob, robes fluffed, spoon gavel ready.
He pounded once. “Court is in session! Charges against one Sir Dunkalot: Snack greed in the first degree. Disruption of cupboard harmony. Biscuit negligence. False accusations toward a faithful dog. And… unglamorous munching.”
Lady Biscotti rose, striking in a buttercream blazer and signature biscuit jewellery. Her camera gave a soft click as she captured the courtroom scene. “Your Honour, this man not only devoured eight ginger nuts in a row—without pause—but left the packet open to the air, causing widespread crumble panic. He let Indy take the fall. And only Biggie’s sharp nose prevented a miscarriage of biscuit justice.”
Gasps. Sir Dunkalot looked guilty. The Tunnock’s Teacake defending him simply shook his marshmallow head.
Judge Hobnob sighed. “Do you accept these charges?” Sir Dunkalot nodded. “I do. And I’m sorry. I forgot myself. And Indy… I never meant for you to be blamed.” Indy—watching calmly from the gallery—gave a soft tail wag. Biggie looked back at Lady Biscotti. “Woof.” She smiled. “Well said.”
Judge Hobnob raised his spoon. “Sentencing! You must bake fresh ginger nuts for the whole kitchen. You must announce snack intentions before opening any packet. You must apologise—sincerely—to Indy. And you must share the last biscuit. Always.”
Court applauded. A pink wafer fainted. Justice was served.
Blind Man Makes 