Panache and the Great Hunt for the Acryli-Beast

**Monkey@Arms** · 21st June 07, 11:46 AM

Special Anti-Pants Operatives Rescue Rehabilitation And Non-Bifurcation unit.

Very hush-hush, need-to-know.

Best regards,

Jake

**mkmound** · 21st June 07, 12:24 PM

Somehow, I suspect this tale has a tie to the disappearance of a five-acre glacial lake in Chile's southern Andes . . .

**Hamish** · 21st June 07, 06:00 PM

Originally Posted by McClef

..................................................

And Hamish! What an unfortunate location to think of in the circumstances!

Ah, Trefor, do you not recall the tale of the phantom rice pudding thrower of the Balls Pond Road? Perhaps not - you're far too young!! Well, I believe there is a connection. Perhaps Jamie will reveal all before he's out

!

**McClef** · 22nd June 07, 01:16 AM

Originally Posted by Hamish

Ah, Trefor, do you not recall the tale of the phantom rice pudding thrower of the Balls Pond Road? Perhaps not - you're far too young!! Well, I believe there is a connection. Perhaps Jamie will reveal all before he's out

!

I regret that it does not come to my memory banks Hamish.

I do remember Bruce Forsythe's Generation Game and the "plays" put on by the Balls Pond Rd Amateur Dramatic Society.

And I was once taken to a pub called The Entertainer on that thoroughfare to hear quite a good band.

**Alan H** · 22nd June 07, 10:54 AM

Look, if you're gonna take a zeppelin to the North Pole, be VERY careful with your kilt pins.

BTW, the F-H.C.A.G. DOES dance with "other (lucky) men"..... On rare occasion.

**Arlen** · 24th June 07, 07:25 AM

Every time I read Panache's writings I find myself imagining it all done in the voice of Guy Noir from Prairie Home Companion.

Very well done, Panache. This is making a very dreich day that much more bearable. I'm looking forward to the rest.

**Panache** · 28th June 07, 09:12 AM

Panache and the Great Hunt for the Acryli-Beast

A Victorian Tale of Horror told in Chapters

Chapter 3

The three gentlemen who had surrounded me all seemed quite amiable but had the most disconcerting habit of speaking in shifts. I had to keep turning about in circles just to follow the conversation.

“We couldn’t help overhearing …“ started Mr. Mender

“…that you are planning…” continued Mr. Mr. Splash

“…a great expedition to the Artic.” finished Mr. BEEDEE

“As fans of your Chapter books…“

“…we would greatly appreciate…”

“…the opportunity to go with you.”

“We would be…”

“…greatly honored…”

“…to act as your body guards…”

“…or whatever position…”

“…would be…”

“…of use to you…”

As I began to get quite dizzy at this point, I took a calling card from each gentleman and gave them my assurance that if I did indeed mount such an expedition that I should offer all of them a place within it. They seemed satisfied with this promise and I bade them farewell.

Looking to the dance floor I noted that the Flame-Haired Celtic Amazon Goddess was now doing the cha-cha with a tall, bald gentleman sporting many tattoos and tribal looking ear plugs. I decided that drastic measures would have to be taken if I ever wished to dance with my lovely bride and walked purposely over to the orchestra conductor.
A few words and a large tip later, I strode onto the dance floor with a rose clenched in my teeth and my beloved wife on my arm to the staccato beat of a tango. But even as we danced my thoughts kept falling back to the image of a beautiful white fur sporran.

At the end of the soiree I had resolved that I must do further research to make this dream a reality. To that end I would need to hasten to the Great Hall of X Marks the Scot, home of the League of the Moderators!

To be continued...