25
Jun
09

The Murky Depths…

     Dear Reader, I hope this digital document finds you in fine fettle. As you may very well recall;I hinted at a meeting with one Dr. Nemo. And so it was that, after a glance at the octopus clock revealed, that it once again time to avail myself of Shanks’ pony, out I ventured.

     Ah there you are! At the preordained time, I stepped forward in the saloon bar of the Teapot & Hearing Aid. After ordering a pint of the dubiously named Special from the part-time barman, I drifted over to one of the snugs and perused that morning’s Shire Bugle. Apart from an article about a papershophaving blown away, and an origami factory that had recently folded, there was very littleto trouble the Shire. On raising my eyed from ink to bar, I espeyed that my aquatic associate had arrived.

The Teapot & Hearing Aid

The Teapot & Hearing Aid,yesterday

     Dr. Nemo expounded on his new technological breakthrough. Let me tell you, dear reader, that I was astonished, flabbergasted, outraged & bedevilledsimultaneously. But not literally, obviously. My meeting was not a total success, but at least it crystallized what was impossible. Nemo’sfiendish plan was to build a fleet of submersibles, carrying passengers and cargo around the country. Thus, removing the highway of burdensome traffic. Apparently his prototype had been sabotaged by the Imperial Lego Company.  His plans where in ruins. As he poured over his blueprints, he explained more and more of his scheme. Then it hit me, the power source for the submersibles was indeed by tapping into the telapathic potential of octopuses. Quelle Horreur! The idea shocked me to the core. Genius on the teetering edge of madness. I stamped my tankard down on the wobbly table. (Not easy to get away with that one whilst still maintaining your dignity.) The madman was sent out of the hostelry with a flea in his ear (not literally, either -That’s enough of the Ed.)

     Let me confess to you. I have always had a fondness for oureight-legged friends. I event went so far as to teach one to play the violin (alas, that paticular venture ended in tears.) My father taught me the joy of the cephlapod as a youth. We would swim with the rare three-eyed Pillbox Octopuses in the crystal blue waters of lake Majova. There I learnt their mysterious customs, their worship of Javalot, their deity & their mating practices. This largely involves biting their own tentacles off and flapping about a bit. You, see octopuses are timid creatures, preferring to bugger off in a cloud of ink, than get involved with the affairs of man. The thought of their civilisation being  sapped of its’ sentient power made my blood hit a ton on the old brass thermometer. And poor Dorothy, sweet, sweet Dorothy. What she could do with eight arms was enough to make your eyes water.

They love zebras

They love zebras

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