Panache and the Great Hunt for the Acryli-Beast

[Wompet]

The cast increases, I see. Who's next?
(I'll be last, if at all - when they pass through Customs, all Acryli-Beast products and by-products will be seized by Agriculture and the Fish and Wildlife Service.
Trafficking in endangered species and all that, you know.
Wait, what do mean, you weren't going to pass through Customs?!)

[Panache]

Panache and the Great Hunt for the Acryli-Beast

A Victorian Tale of Horror told in Chapters

Chapter 14

“Good morning. Please don't shoot us. I’m Jamie. I had placed an order under the name Panache for some heavyweight winter kilts. These are my associates from the League of the Moderators David and Todd.” I spoke very clearly and rapidly. Todd and David both nodded politely toward the white haired man. “These three gentlemen are members of my crew, Mr. Splash, Mr. BEEDEE, and Mr. Mender”, here my security team each offered a short bow. “This gentleman to whom I have been most recently introduced is Mr. McMurdo.” I finished. McMurdo nodded politely.

The Wizard asked “what about the fellow you threw out the window?“

“Apparently his name was Grant. He was pretending to be you to get information from us about the Acryli-Beast“ I admitted.

“Was he a blond thin sort of fellow?’

“Yes”

“Kind of strange?”

“Indeed”

“Did he talk a lot about his pert behind in a rather disturbing way?”

“That description would seem to match the person”

“Hmmmm…I’ve caught that guy rooting around in my trashcan and reading my old mail” declared the Wizard setting down his rifle on a counter in the showroom. “Apparently you are not the only ones looking to get themselves an Acryli-Beast sporran.

Mr. Splash looked out the window “he’s gone!”

The man known as the Wizard of B.C. shook his head. “You had all better come down to the workshop”. The seven of us followed the old yet stately fellow through the showroom to a narrow spiral staircase made of black iron. We descended it to a strange basement laboratory. Tesla coils of unimaginable power lit up the lab with a harsh white light. Van De Graf generators capable of millions of ergs of energy output took up most of the back wall. There were flickering green screens with constantly scrolling readouts of strings of numbers and symbols and enough dials and gauges to shame the entire American Space Program. Large work tables were arranged in the center of the room with strange specialized kilts in various stages of assembly. Including one that appeared to be some strange hybrid between the traditional garb of a clansman and a deep sea diving suit. “For the Cousteau Society” said the Wizard noting my interest. There were ancient and weird looking stones and crystals set on the shelves no doubt used for some arcane purpose. The main feature of the labratory was a huge chrome vat that dominated the left corner of the room. Puffs of steam rose from it and a vast network of small pipes radiated from it. These pipes traversed the entire room to end in small spigots with a red rubber push button. Todd asked the purpose of this contraption from the white haired elder.

The Wizard beamed with pride. “This is one of my greatest creations. Over 500 gallons of coffee is maintained at piping hot temperatures inside that chamber without burning the brew. It is distributed throughout my laboratory by this system of pipes.”

“Why so many?” asked David

The Wizard explained “When holding a coffee mug, my extended arm has a reach of exactly 25 inches or 63 ½ centimeters. These spigots are carefully laid out so that no matter wherever I am working in the Lab I can always reach out and refill my cup with rich hot coffee.”

“Wouldn’t it be far simpler just to get up and walk a couple of steps and fill your cup from a standard coffee pot?” Todd wondered aloud with a raised eyebrow.

“You are obviously not an engineer!” declared the Wizard grumpily.

We finally reached an empty work table. The Wizard paused long enough to fill his chipped white mug with a draught of fresh coffee before he unrolled a map of Northern Canada and polar region. Weighing down the corners of the map with a few odd pieces of scientific equipment he said “As I recall you had mentioned you had additional information.”

I told the Wizard about the mention of the lights of the Aurora Borealis and the creature.

“Hmmmmm The odd thing is that in the last few decades or so the lights of the Aurora Borealis have diminished substantially. What was once the shimmering wonder of the North is now but a pale flickering in the night sky. Gone are the bright colors. Science has advanced a few theories- pollutants in the atmosphere or some shift in global temperature. No one knows for sure. I wouldn’t try to use them as a guide though for your hunting expedition.” the Wizard said thoughtfully stroking his beard.

“What do you suggest?” I asked.

The Wizard tapped the map. “I have gone through my records and found a Inuit reference to a fog shrouded mountain of ice here. This is supposedly the territory of the beasts.” He pointed at a spot very near the North Pole with a long thin finger.

“A Mountain! There is no mention of a mountain in the great Polar plains by Peary, Amundsen, or any of the other explorers” I said incredulously.

“Has it occurred to you that they had a good reason not to? he replied ominously.

“This map is in English units measurements” complained David just to be difficult.

The Wizard pulled another rolled map from underneath the table and handed it to him. “Here’s a second one in Metric. A good engineer is always prepared” the Wizard said smugly.

He looked at me with his pale blue eyes “I have your heavy winter kilts ready. The only thing I can offer you in addition to this is a letter of introduction to a Inuit chief of my acquaintance. His tribe is known far and wide as being gruff and unfriendly. They are curmudgeonly people, a bad tempered people, an easily annoyed people. Oddly enough I got along with them quite well when I happened to met with them in my long long ago youth. Chief Agulicuactx McTundra might have further information that could help you. It would mean a detour East on your way to the Pole, for they reside on Ellsemere Island, but it might be worth it. Do you have anyone on your expedition who speaks Inuit?”

"Err no" I admitted.

"I speak Inuit" offered McMurdo brightly.

Before I could say anything Mr. Splash, Mr. BEEDEE, and Mr. Mender all clapped him on the back and said "Welcome to the team!"

With that detail attended to I thanked the Wizard for the maps and inquired further that if in his research he had found anything else about the exact nature of the Greater Acryli-Beast. The old man shook his head, “just a few obscure remarks about the beast swooping down on unsuccessful hunters and ripping them limb from limb”.

“Swooping?” asked I.

“I found at least two mentions of the word. Apparently they like to leap down on their prey. No idea what exact type of creature they are though. The Lesser AcrlyaBeast is actually a type of rodent distantly related to the South American Nauga”. One could extrapolate from this that the Greater Acryli-beast is also a rodent though much fiercer than it’s lesser brethren. I can offer you no further aid than this. Heed my advice though, this is a most dangerous venture at best. It is frought with peril. If ye be sensible you will give this up. Somethings in life are best left alone, and the Acryli-Beast is one of them!” the Wizard of B.C. gravely said.

The curse of youth is a deaf ear to the wisdom of age. I shook my head and thanked the Wizard for his help. With this David, Todd, and myself bid him farewell. Mr. Splash, Mr. BEEDEE, and Mr. Mender we left to arrange the transport of the heavy winter kilts to the zeppelin. Mr. McMurdo ran off to gather a few things before reporting to the Saltire for duty.

David noted that it was nearing tea time and I remembered that Colin, our Canadian member of the League of the Moderators, had highly recommended an establishment for high tea in Victoria. I mentioned this to David and Todd but sadly added that Colin had spoken that the Empress Hotel was often booked months in advance. David smiled “reservations, like locks are something to detain other people”. With this he started briskly walking downtown.

To Be Continued…

[mddock58]

I believe you went from Chapter 12 to chapter 14! Did we miss something, or are you superstitious?

[davedove]

I believe you went from Chapter 12 to chapter 14! Did we miss something, or are you superstitious?

You're right, he did.

Oh, Panache, do not tell me you have succumbed to low-minded superstition.

[starbkjrus]

I have got to stop reading this thread while eating lunch at my desk. People keep wondering what can be so funny about a sandwich.

[Colin]

Chapter 13 is Classified and is hidden safely away within the Hall of the League of Moderators. No one can ever know what really happened in Chapter 13

[McClef]

“This map is in English units measurements” complained David just to be difficult. "

British measurements Sir! They are the same in Scotland, Wales and Northern Ireland!

(Alas the rest of Ireland has now adopted godless metricism!)

[McMurdo]

I had no idea that I spoke Inuit. I suppose you learn something new everyday.

[mkmound]

I had no idea that I spoke Inuit. I suppose you learn something new everyday.

It's obviously so natural and comfortable to you that you don't even think about it!!

[Panache]

Gentle Readers,

Rather than allow you to think that I am either subject to irrational superstition or, worse yet, incapable of keeping an accurate count of the chapters I have written (which of course would be completely unheard of) I will endeavor to explain the conspicuous absence of the 13th Chapter of this tale.

Chapter 13 dealt with what was concurrently happening at the Great Golden Hall of X Marks the Scot among the rest of the League of the Moderators whilst our brave expedition was confronting Grant. Besides illuminating certain secrets of the League of the Moderators, it also described how Mike and Nelson discovered the existence of our clandestinely made zeppelin, the Saltire, and how Nelson’s symphony orchestra had been purloined to man her. Nelson and Mike described their feelings about these actions, their personal opinions about the three of us collaborators, and their plans for us when they eventually caught us. To protect the Leagues’ secrets and in keeping with X Marks the Scot’s policies regarding profanity and descriptions of extremely violent actions, the Chapter was removed from this narrative. As Colin has previously noted it is now kept at the Great Golden Hall within the secrecy of our private records, sadly never to be seen by the public's eye.

I sincerely apologize for any inconvenience this has caused.

Your Most humble Servant


P.