Panache and the Curious Affair of the Gin and Tonic

[Colin]

more tea while we wait, Trefor?

[starbkjrus]

snip...
Arlen sobbed ...snip

A lad from Glesga?!

Reality really HAS checked out.

snip...

“It was Grant.“

Oh my. A Tapioca fueled darkness has descended upon us all...

[McClef]

Always up for a good cuppa Colin!

[Coemgen]

Hmmm …

Reason does appear to be taking a lunch break at the moment.

[Arlen]

Oh no! Not Grant again! How will we ever make it through?

[Panache]

Gentle Readers,

I sincerely apologize for the great lapse in installments of this strange tale I have been relating. My Publisher, having been contacted by Grant’s solicitors, made it known that until certain details were resolved to the satisfaction of all parties concerned they preferred that no further chapters be presented.

It is was with great pleasure that I received word from my editors at the Publishing House of XMTS this morning that indicated that all proprietary issues pertaining to Grant had been concluded to the gratification of all. Thus I may continue as long as I follow certain guidelines and instructions. These include:

That no mention be made whatsoever of the incident in the Hamilton Pub where Grant tried to persuade a young lady to perform what is commonly known in the vernacular as a “kilt check”, the fact that this person was the foremost ranked woman highland athlete in Ontario, and that she was able to score a 12:05 position when she grabbed Grant and hurled him into the muddy street.

I am also forbidden to relate the details concerning the Den Mothers of Brownie troop #134, what Grant asked of them, how they pursued Grant through the streets of Burlington, cornered him in a dark alley, and pummeled him with his own rubber chicken.

No references concerning “Bobbo the parakeet" or the sour cream will be related.*

Finally Grant has been given permission to manufacture and sell the “Grant Disguise Kit" TM: Featuring blond curly wig, vinyl molded pert buttocks prosthetic , and rhinestone tiara (Pudding and rubber chicken not included). This should be available in more disreputable toy stores for the Christmas season, much to the delight of future psychotherapists who will reap an unprecedented bounty as they try and dispel the childhood trauma induced by this product.

I hope to continue my narrative soon.

Your Humble Servant

P.

[davedove]

I sincerely apologize for the great lapse in installments of this strange tale I have been relating. My Publisher, having been contacted by Grant’s solicitors, made it known that until certain details were resolved to the satisfaction of all parties concerned they preferred that no further chapters be presented.

Yes, those pesky lawyers. Grant's attorney's were bothering my agents too. We also had to make adjustments to the movies concerning Grant's character. Fortunately, I found a loophole.

[Birddog]

That no mention be made whatsoever of the incident in the Hamilton Pub where Grant tried to persuade a young lady to perform what is commonly known in the vernacular as a “kilt check”, the fact that this person was the foremost ranked woman highland athlete in Ontario

P.

When I get home, I have to try and find pics of this rubber chicken sporran...

[Panache]

Panache and the Curious Affair of the Gin and Tonic:

A Victorian Serial told in Chapters

Chapter 4

Those that have followed my previous narratives may recall that I had dealt with this Grant fellow in my excursion to the Arctic Circle (see Panache and the Great Hunt for the Acryli-Beast for details). He was certainly a most peculiar man, and had caused quite a lot of trouble, but I failed to see how even he could be responsible for the cessation of the Universe-at-Large. I said as much to the apparition before me.

“Now look here Madam Pleater, there are many things that can be said of Grant. Come to think of it they all have to be said as they are unprintable. But how can one person muck things up on such an epic scale?"

The shimmering image regarded me with a raised eyebrow “you have met Grant before haven’t you?”

I sighed and nodded, Madame Pleater continued.

“Apparently four days ago the members of the SOKS were attacked by a group of masked men led by Grant…”

“SOKS?” interrupted Arlen

“The Sinister and Obscene Kilt Syndicate” I explained.

“They sound like a bunch of wankers” said Arlen

“Errr…Quite” Madam Pleater admitted . “In any case the members of the SOKS were conducting an evening meeting in their secret headquarters…“

“Secret Headquarters?” Arlen asked.

“Well actually a little Irish pub in the York Region of Toronto. It was chosen as the SOKS headquarters because it was located across the street from a large warehouse the SOKS had rented and the happy hour beer specials

“Will you stop interrupting her Arlen! At this rate we will never get the exposition over with” Colin called out.

Madam Pleater continued “As I was saying, the members of the SOKS were well into their meeting and had just made the important decision to order crisps with the next round while they waited for their leader Grant to arrive. A (consistently) late arriving member, by name of MacHummel, announced that he had noticed from the parking lot a figure wearing a leather kilt with a rubber chicken as a sporran sneaking into their warehouse. It was none other than their leader Grant trying to break into the building! Thinking something was amiss the SOKS went out to confront him.

“If it was their warehouse why was he trying to break in?” asked Colin thoughtfully.

“Wait I thought Grant fellow was their leader? Didn’t they trust him?“ asked a confused Arlen.

Everyone in the room stopped and stared at Arlen with disbelief (including Mr. Tibbles the badger)

“You obviously don’t know Grant” I remarked.

“Please do go on. What happened next?” Trefor asked.

Madam Pleater resumed her story , “Another rather…salty… SOKS member known as Uncle Ricky offered some…well…very…colorful…words and then asked in no uncertain terms what Grant was doing? Grant didn’t respond and a group of masked kilted men rushed out of the night to attack the surprised SOKS. There was quite a scuffle as the SOKS tried to defend themselves, but they all had, I believe the term is “the stuffing beaten out of them”. When they regained consciousness Grant and the masked men were gone and the warehouse empty.

“What was inside the warehouse?”

“This picture was taken by an amateur photographer that very night." The image of Madame Pleater was replaced with a large color photograph. The picture was striking. Brightening the night sky above the city was a huge blazing circle of blue light with the back half of a blimp projecting out of it. Part of a large red leaf that adorned the white stripe amidships could be seen and the end of the airship was also red.

“Another Maple Leaf!” I exclaimed.

Madame Pleater’s image replaced the photograph “Indeed Captain Panache. From what limited information I was able to obtain it would seem that the SOKS had constructed a larger, more powerful, and better armed blimp to replace the first Maple Leaf."

“What is the blue circle of light?” asked Colin.

The apparition stared at us all with a grim look before answering.

“It is a gap in our Reality. Apparently the new Maple Leaf is equipped with some device that can punch a hole big enough to allow the blimp to slip through the Space/Time Continuum. It is a crude device that tears the very fabric of Existence.”

“Where did the ship go?” I asked.

“Where or When did she go? That is the question and one you will all have to solve.”

“When?” Asked Colin incredulously.

Madame Pleater’s image again vanished to be replaced by a newspaper clipping. The photograph accompanying it showed a dragonfly with a wingspan of at least 2 feet lying dead on a sidewalk. Her voice explained “this appeared in the latest…hmmm…actually quite possibly the last ever edition of the Toronto Sun this morning. It appears to be of the species Meganeuropsis permiana from the Carboniferous period. Ill suited to life in our Modern world it perished.”

“Holes in the fabric of Reality” I whispered.

“This is what caused everything to disappear?” asked Arlen

Madam Pleater appeared again to answer him.

“Either the device Grant is utilizing to travel through the Space/Time Continuum or his actions in these Otherwheres and/or Otherwhens have caused the fabric of universe to unravel.

Trefor asked “How is it that we still exist then?”

“More importantly what can we do to put things right?“ I asked.

“That shall take some explanation.”

Madame Pleater’s projection removed its glasses and turned to face me.

“Captain Panache, much of the success of your mission will depend on your ability to understand the complex mathematics and theories behind quantum mechanics, particle physics, Relativity, and String theory ”

“We are all doomed” noted Colin.




To be continued.

[robthehiker]

“Another rather…salty… SOKS member known as Uncle Ricky offered some…well…very…colorful…words

That's funny. He sounds a lot like... Oh!