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 Crime:
The Crown Jewels, Linguistic Tragedy, Nominative Determinism
Super
Criminal, Samurai
The
Gentlemen's Club
More
Reminiscensces from Duncan De Sordillee
Sturgeon
Assertion
Appointments
to Institutions
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Funny
lot those missionaries, eh?
I knew a chap once who spent a good few
years out in the amazon with the natives, trying to teach them about cricket
and tea. Name of Godfrey Ponsing-Twatte. As I recall, his problem really
came about because of those shaman chappies in the jungle. Got him blowing
this stuff up his nose through hollow sticks, commune with the jungle
spirits, or something. Anyway, we had to expel him from the club in the
end- always seeing tigers behind the sofas.
He was a nice enough chap really, had
awful trouble getting a decent wicket rolled out in the rainforest, he
said, but I'm afraid that incident with Dame Cornelia Pendulous-Labia
was quite the last straw. Lovely lady, she was, turned up one afternoon
at the main reception, asking for that German chappie we had for a while,
Helmut Fuk, I think his name was. Anyway, she was wearing this feather
Boa, and old GPT had some kind of hallucination, grabbed the Purdey from
the Colonel and blasted her head clean off. Awful mess, kept shouting
about pythons. Terribly bad form in the afternoon, had to be asked to
leave.
Funny things those pythons, wrestled one
once out in the Congo with the Huzzars. Swallowed three of my men, that
thing. Don't understand Queensbury rules, that's the problem with these
bloody Africans. No point keeping your guard up and looking for an opening
with the left jab when the damned colonials are coming at you with fangs
and all that. Bloody dishonourable wildlife, if you ask me. You don't
find good god-fearing English otters and so on swallowing you whole. No
sir, you most certainly do not.
Good old Bertie Shaggitt used to breed
otters. Made underwear from them as I recall. Do you know, he didn't leave
this room for fifteen years- prisoner of his own moustache. Twenty yards
from end to end in by the time he passed away, couldn't fit through the
doors you see. Not a bad way to go though, I suppose. Mistook a box of
those effervescent pain-killers for mints, ate the lot. Had a glass of
water and just exploded. Swelled up like a barrage balloon first though-
made an awful mess. The colonel got an awful shock with the bang, started
loosing off left right and centre with the Purdey. Got five of the servants.
Shame about old Prandeep- made an awfully good pot of tea. Never did quite
touch the ground when he walked though- most peculiar.
Anyway, must dash. Seeing the quack about
my tongue- nearly a yard long now.
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