Friday, December 17

Half a Rapier Wit Is Better Than None

Dear Queen Sybil blogs on Gus' behalf, as he has his hands (2) full duelling with Verman.

"With the sort of grin seen only in asylums, Verman gripped his rapier as if it were a lance, then launched himself at Gus' heart.

Just then the Georgette shook as if she'd been torpedoed. The whale had mustered what little energy remained in him and thrust his sixty-some-tons into the portside hull. The rail in turn knocked loose the elbow joint on Gus's prosthetic arm, sending the trash can lid clanging onto Verman's skull. Verman dropped like a domino and lay on the deck unconscious.

Gus looked over the rail, a mix of disbelief and profound gratitude. The crew and I readied a cheer.

At that moment the Georgette exploded -- George, that idiot's idiot, had put beans in the second engine as well -- the one with the fuel in it. "


Not only is Gus wounded and bleeding, but he is on a soon to be ex-seagoing craft yet again. I think now would be a good time for Dan to load everyone into his snappy Cigarette boat - everyone we care about, that is - and get Gus to the nearest medical facilities.

Of course, Dan may have other thoughts on the matter, since helping Gus may result in Dan getting thrown in the hoosegow.

Pity that Sybil is still not yet a merry widow. Perhaps we ought to take up a collection and contact Tony Bignose, who I believe has retired to the Caribbean after a colorful career making things fall off the backs of lorries.

I have been remiss of late, as I have been entertaining the refugees. We had a new arrival last night; a perfectly charming old couple of a rare and delicious vintage. I am persuaded that they might know a thing or two about California wines, and so while they are laying over I expect we shall have some nice chats about vineyards and foods and the interesting people they've encountered.

They, too warned me of the mysterious blue-haired man, who apparently screams constantly. Not a nice prospect, I assure you; so I have ordered a leather gag from a theatrical props company that supplied odds and ends for that frightening Silent Lambs movie with the fellow that liked snacking on people's livers. Also he shall not be allowed contact with anybody decent except for that one "cuddin" of snuggs'... we might ask him to teach this fellow some manners.


5 comments:

Anonymous said...

I'll forward the money myrtle owes me to the Bignose fund.

-- Rosco I. Hatten

Anonymous said...

miz b:

cuddin cj says, pffft! bring on the blue-haired man. she's faced worse when tryin' to get the last two cans of succotash at the piggly wiggly *buy one, get one free* sale.

yes, roscoe...forward money. i'm afraid the cat would be of lil use at this juncture.

snuggs

Anonymous said...

rosco,

although the sentiment is nice to help sybil out, how many times do i have to tell you, you can't spend money you don't have. the fat lady has not sung yet on the gus story. he's wounded but not dead.

myrtle

Ginny said...

Oh, but the Mysterious Blue-Haired Man is apparently very loud and abusive in addition to being merely annoying and faintly ridiculous, so I shall be taking steps to isolate him where he may be loud, abusive, annoying and ridiculous without disturbing or threatening my other patrons and matrons.

Anonymous said...

miz b...

just who is this mortimer snead person, and do i need to get out the visine? *glares ominously*

snuggs