WHY DIDN'T THEY ASK CHARD?

WHY DIDN'T THEY ASK CHARD?

It was a mystery to all those left....! 

Why in god's name wasn't Chard asked for his opinion ? It was not as if it was too complex  a question for him to contemplate, even though it was not within the bound of his normal field of excellence. 

A simple reference to Chard may have saved many lives and resultant collapse of civilisation. Quantum theory is not everyone's cup of tea of course, but Chard was fully aware of the implications of ignoring its basic, if complex, theorem. 

The Outer Hebrides had survived most of the subsequent terror and destruction, but was still a bleak and unhospitable place to be in mid-February. 

DR DOYLE AND THE JADE SAFARI

 DR DOYLE AND THE JADE SAFARI 

Alfred Applesnot was past his prime and his many enemies knew it, and to be fair, so did Alfred. 

His great adversary, Dr Theopolis Doyle was well aware of his predicament and suggested that he followed him on his quest to obtain the fabled "Jade Testicle of the Serengeti".

 Dr Doyle had recently being enjoying the benefits of being created the perpetual curate of the small but wealthy village of Ambalshit, but had an itch to obtain the sacred Jade Testicle.

 Many believed it to be no more than a myth, but the good doctor had other ideas, mainly due to an old manuscript that had fallen in to his slippery hands, whilst recovering the Munich Horn on an earlier escapade to Europe. The Munich Horn  had been a tricky affair, with many occasions when those involved believed all was lost. However, after eventually coming back to blighty with the goods, the nefarious Doctor was in good spirits. 

The manuscript revealing the location of the Jade Testicle was an added bonus, and one that could not be overlooked by the ever ambitious Dr Doyle. Alfred was determined to outwit his adversary this time, and wrench the fabled testicle from Dr Doyle's blotchy but muscular hands. Alfred had turned down the chance to be involved with the Munich Horn, but regretted the lost opportunity to outwit Dr Doyle. This time things would be different and Applesnot would claim all the glory of recovering the Jade Testicle, and returning if for detailed scientific analysis and interpretation.

To be continued.....

COURT OF APPEAL INVOKES PRAGMATIC SANCTION

 COURT OF APPEAL INVOKES PRAGMATIC SANCTION

Dramatic scenes at the Turdoxian Court of Appeal unravelled when the judges unanimously passed an appeal invoking an amendment to the Pragmatic Sanction of 1713.  

This codicil confirms the rights of Turdoxians to inherit the crown of the Holy Bohemian Empire, including both male and female offspring, and those of all denominations and religions. 

To be continued........

APOCALYPSE BANANA

 APOCALYPSE BANANA

Lord Loafington stretched out his feet in front of the burning hearth, and twiddled his moustache.

Burning coals slowly tumbled and cracked in the open hearth, as they exuded their gaseous ether. Streaks of blue and yellow light flashed through the flames as Loafington feet warmed to the ambient heat. Hands placed firmly on his chest, and smiling with a ferocious grin he slowly dozed off to sleep.

However, his slumber was quickly abated as glass shattered in the window pane and fell abruptly to the lushly carpeted floor. Waking with as start, Loafington turned his neck and blurry eyes to the source of the commotion. A large brick wrapped in newspaper and tied in a sinuous knot lay before him.

 Noticing immediately that the newspaper was the Telegraph and not he Times, his first reaction was that the offending article had been thrown by a dissenting tenant of his vast estate. Unfurling the paper he quickly noticed that a copy of the North Allerton Gazette was also encompassing the missile. 

 Recent rent rises had enraged many in the village, and in particular the white collared element who had been hit by higher increases. 

 At the local hostelry a recent meeting had been attended by dissatisfied members of the local solicitors office, the villages dentist and apothecary and also the veterinary surgeon, at which much dissent was shown towards Lord Loafington. 

The source of this outrage was not only the rent rises, but the new imposition of the title Banana, to all who approached the Lord. The level of betrayal and dissatisfaction was heightened by the recent events surrounding Loafington's recent dismissal and loss of commission from the Cavalry division of the Kings Mechanised Imbibing Battalion. 

To be continued.....

 

THE DARK DAYS OF BITTERNESS AND HONEY

THE DARK DAYS OF BITTERNESS AND HONEY

Luke sat motionless staring out of the window and contemplation the task before him. It was not going to be easy, but none the less, it was essential that he completed the duty that he had inherited.

 His hands twisted in to contorted shapes as he considered his options. Of course, the most obvious way forward was to contact those in the know, and try to unravel what had gone so disastrously wrong.

 His hands reached in to his trouser pockets to locate his small black notebook. Pulling it from its warm but strangled lair he fingered the pages searching for names, clues or anything that may help. After a few seconds he paused his search and stared at the small book. The name "Brunner" was prominent on the page and was underlined and thickly circled in red ink. 

 Scribbled notes referring to a number of names were just about legible as he took in the enormity of what he was about to do. Grabbing his phone from his inner jacket pocket he slowly dialled the number of the President and Chairman of the revered society that was previously known as "Boojar".

 He looked out of the window and noted that thick globules of snow had started to fall, and was settling quickly. 

 The dialling tone burred in the background for a few seconds and then a dark deep voice answered -

    "Hello!, who dares call me on this number ? ".

     "Hi Her Brunner, its Luke, I'm the son of one of your old confederates, and id like to discuss some business. I found your number in an old note book together with those of what i believed to have been other members of your gang".

    "Ah Luke, replied the disgruntled voice. I wondered when you would be in contact !" 

To be continued......  

THE APOTHECARY OF SAN JUAN

 THE APOTHECARY OF SAN JUAN

The tired old chemist sat on his stool trying to keep cool from the blistering heat outside. 

As cold sweat ran down his neck, his palms were too moist to hold the tweezers in his fingers, and any kind of enterprise had to be delayed until the heat relented.

 Under pressure from the local lord to complete the task before sunrise had placed an unbearable pressure on the weak and slumped shoulders of the old man.

 He knew only too well that failure was unthinkable, and the lives of his family were endangered if he failed to complete the task. The lead deposit that had been provided was of superior stock, but it was never going to transform in to gold as he had been instructed. He understood only too well that the alchemy myth was about to be exposed, as was his neck to a noose, garrotte or sword.

Lord Constapacion had been quite exact in his words as he instructed the chemist to transpose the elements as required. "Gold by dawn or your head will be fed to the Condors". 

Transmutation was a lie, and the feeble old man knew this only too well. However, unless he came up with the required product he was doomed, and what would happen to his numerous grandchildren who depended on him for their survival. Thinking fast he decided that his best option was to contact Madame Methane, an old adversary who had perfected  a peculiar modus operandi for survival. 

Madame Methane was renowned for expertise in the production of odious gases and may be able to ignite his mission to create gold.

 

To be continued......

THE BARON OF NORTHWOOD GOES TO TOWN

 THE BARON OF NORTHWOOD GOES TO TOWN

Lord Louis Loafington, the 4th earl of Northwood and Neasden, has bewildered passers-by and somewhat gobsmacked bystanders, by parading through the streets of Northwood with an unfurled umbrella and fully extended penile erection, whilst shouting "tumbleweed banana" !

 His progress was slow, due to his breeches being wrapped around his ankles as a by product of his removing his undergarments, so as to place them upon his head. Beneath his impromptu crown, his long thin greying locks were shoulder length and swept back from his forehead. Spectacles were poorly balanced upon his nose but stubbornly remained in place. 

 Allowed to continue his regal precession by a bashful and somewhat bewildered police constable, he finally abated his march at the bar of his local golf club, where he is the current president and head honcho.

 Explaining his current extended predicament was due to his mistakenly swallowing Viagra rather than his blood pressure pills, he expressed his wish for the bartender to provide him with the previous evenings slop bucket so that he could quench his ravishing thirst. 

 Sinking the contents with a rumbustious haste, he quickly pointed towards the top shelf of the bar and whispered that he required a very, very large vodka and coke, with no ice or lemon. A jar of pickled eggs soon followed and was accompanied by pork scratchings and salted peanuts, with entangled human pubes and added urine at no additional cost.

 However, anal tugnuts were at a premium, and had to be paid for at an extortionate rate, and were therefore dismissed. 

 With his thirst and hunger suitably sated for the time being, he wandered over to the window and sat down in his favourite chair, a large wicker creation in the style of a rattan throne from China. When seated comfortably, he reached in to his breast pocket and withdrew a folded sheet of yellowing paper. Pushing his spectacles up his nose, he unfolded the script and began to scan its content.

 The words were brief, but again and again his eyes focused on the signature, that of the notorious Dr Theopolis Doyle. A salty sensation filled the Lords mouth as he salivated at the thought of meeting up with his former compatriot and fellow imbiber. The memories came flooding back, both good and bad, and thoughts of his fellow contemporaries began to fill the cavernous voids of his mind. 

 The "A Team"  had disbanded decades ago, but its exploits lived on in his thoughts, memories and desires. The "Mitre" club house and its supporting bases were all either destroyed or converted in to hostile and unsterile environments. However remnants of the "A Team" still resided in his immediate vicinity and although not in regular contact, Lord Loafington was aware that they would respond to a clarion call for assistance and attend a meeting in a temporary bivouac. 

To be continued.......