1644
DAY SEVENTEEN: TUESDAY
Oh, God knows I could do with a drink right now? But I’m thinking while this finger is festering, it would be best not to confuse healing with taking out the stump and waving it around at women, while dipping it in the Beer, and thus have it go bad again. No, I think a quiet sober day at the Church would do me some good. The days are shortening before - well, you know. And I know. We all bloody know. I think I might just go inside and speak to Him up There, on That. But - first of all, I suppose I should get out of bed. Oh, sod it. Five more minutes.
“You in there?”
“Of course I am Flit. Where else would I be?” That man is an idiot. And barely a man, when it comes right down to it.
“Right.” Alright. I suppose I have to ask.
“Why?”
“I dunno. Just wondered.”
“Flit, you imbecile, why wouldn't I be? Think about it.” Now there’s a journey on a high road to nothing, “Just open the bloody curtains and get me dressed.” Surely he can do that.
I think I’ll skip breakfast. I ate quite late last night anyway, not to mention this soporific and painful stump makes me feel a little nauseous. And if it’s one of Flit’s Greasers for breakfast, I wouldn’t stand a chance. No, I’ll get a liquid lunch later.
Hang on, wasn’t I just saying I wasn't going to drink? Sod it. Doesn't sound like me. And I do wish Flit wouldn't go so high with his hand there when he’s dressing me. It gives a man the wrong impression, you know?
Look at that rain, still washing the piss stains from the walls and running it downhill to the poorer areas of Upper Vaxham? Whatever. Surely that’s the advantage of living higher up the water table? And Churches are famously the centre of any town or city that’s being built, usually atop a mound. It doesn't help get rid of the mud though. Plus my shoes are getting ruined.
Oh God. And here comes that old Soldier, Captain Hallam Hawtrey. Blind as a - blind thing. He can barely see his finger in front of his face. Or anyone else’s. He makes guesses based on the length and breadth of the shape and colour of the blob that shimmers through the mist of his vision. He does have a tendency to attempt conversations with barrels every now and then, but he is harmless. Well, unless he has his old trusty musket in his hand. Then it’s every sodding man for himself. And trust me, I may not look it, but if I have to run, I can outrun the best of them. You know how it is - I only have to outrun the next person, because it’ll be more than likely they who end up with a shot in their arse, not me. Isn't it odd how most of these old Soldiers or Sailors are blind? Almost like it was on purpose for narrative structure? Hey! Shhh -
“Is that - Rector Posster? How goes it, old chap!” He worked out it was me a bit quickly there, didn't he? Am I that obvious? Don't answer that -
“Captain! Out in the rain, I see?”
“Yes, yes! For a minute there, I thought I might have walked under a waterfall, then I remembered - there aren't any waterfalls around here.” Excellent logic from the hard of thought there.
“Well, I simply must -“ Bugger. Almost got away.
“Oh, Rector? I meant to ask - why do you have a phallus on your hand?” You can bloody see that as well, can’t you?! God strike me down if I haven’t heard that a hundred times! Wait - I meant that figuratively? Please don’t actually strike me down? We both know I’m too pretty to die? Phew -
Anyway, sod him - and I meant the Captain, as you well know! Oh, whatever! I’m going to the Church for a lie down and some Brandy. Okay, who are these three when they’re at home? Well, actually, they’re at my home, but the question remains.
“Rector! Thank God you arrived! Can we go inside and ask you something?”
“Hmm. Okay? But I can answer questions on the streets just as well, you know?” Wow. They really want inside, and - wait! Why did he slam the door behind me? Oh, here it comes! It’s either death, the bones or - well I daren't think of that last one. No point in tempting fate. Besides, I haven’t been that regular of late, what with one thing or another, and it might leave an almighty mess.
“Sorry to do this to you, Rector, but we three require Sanctuary - Asylum.” They certainly need some kind of Asylum, that’s for sure.
“Look, it’s not really that kind of Church -“
“We three are Rum Runners, Cider Shakers - call it what you will. It was all in innocence to begin with -“
“Wait, you brew alcohol? Surely there’s nothing wrong with that?” And there’s even less wrong with drinking it too.
“Well - we don’t just brew it. We - manufacture it.”
“Right -“ Nope, still none the wiser.
“And -“
“As my colleague here is trying to say - the Taxman doesn't know. Or didn’t know. Well -“
“What they're both trying to say, Rector, is that the Taxman is here. And I think he’s here for us.”
“Okay -“
“Rector, it’s a hanging offence?”
“Right. With you. But Asylum?”
“We can make it worth your while?”
“Now you’re talking lads! Okay - names?”
“Ulver Benson.”
“Of the Severe Street Benson’s?”
“Yes, Rector.” Shit.
“How old are you?”
“Why?”
“Oh, no matter.” Shit.
“I’m Yab Piker, and this is Gordie Kiln.”
“Hi.”
“Sorry, don't know the Pikers or the Kilns?”
“We’re from Ropplewood.” Wow. Fascinating conversation, don't you think? Hey, this is real life, you know! Sometimes people just chat about shit! Well, just shut off your brain for a bit then. Shouldn't be too hard -
“Ah, I know the place. Not well, but I do know it.” See? Conversation.
“Well, it’s like this - we have an abundance of barrels, far too many for us to use ourselves. I would imagine the Church has a vault?”
“A bloody big one, yes.” It does. Full of dead bodies though. Hey, they all died of natural causes, you know, and hundreds of years before I even came to this town, so sod off with your unfounded allegations!
“We can fill it.” Bloody Hell! Now that would be a lot of - hang on. I’ll need to hide it from Flit. Given half a chance that little git would drink the place dry. I’ll keep the key to myself. I do hope you're following along? Just think of the money making potential of that much alcohol, and all I have to do is keep these three men locked in the Church? Surely there’s a bad side to this, but right now, I can’t put my missing finger on it.
“Right, well, we have ourselves a deal!”
“Thank you Rector!”
“Yes, thank you!”
“Thanks!”
Well, that’s done then. Right. How does this Sanctuary thing actually work then? I think I might have an idea, “Any of you fancy a tea? Sure? Right, that’s four teas. Flit!? Bugger. I’ve locked him outside. Right. I’ll just unlock the door a second and -“
“Rector Wilfred Posster! Under the command of His Majesty, open up and release to me the three men you have inside, so that I may arrest them for non-payment of duty and taxes!” Wait, I recognise that bloke? It was under a fog of Professor Bornostmere’s Restorative Elixir, but he does look familiar? That’s it! He asked me if the items I was selling were imported. Oh.
“Umm, I’m afraid I can’t do that, Mr -“
“Robert Coverhill KC.” King’s Council? Oh bugger -
“Well, Bob, my old mucker, these three have claimed the Right of Sanctuary, and as a Rector, I am obliged to -“
“The Right of Sanctuary was repealed by His Majesty, James the First in 1623.” Was it? No on told me?
“Well, as a Rector, I still have an obligation -“
“Rector! If you continue to harbour those criminals, I will have no alternative but to call the Clubmen here to forcibly remove them from the Church! And what is more, you will be charged with aiding and abetting -“
“Look, just bugger off, mate? Okay?” What a nob. Right. Time for that tea. Oh, I forgot, “Any of the three of you know how to make tea?” Ah, there he goes! Erm, Piker, I believe?
“That’s noble of you, Rector. To defend the souls of innocent men?”
“Well, not quite innocent, eh, Benson?” That shut him up. Besides, that Taxman, he’s all bluster. He won’t do anything about it. I bet he’s out there right now, scratching his arse trying to come up with a new plan. So -
Hum. It’s - very quiet out there?
“Here’s your tea.” Holy shit! It’s Flit! I mean, I shouldn't be that surprised, but -
“Flit? How in God’s name did you get in here? The door’s locked!”
“I dunno. The secret entrance?”
“The what? We have a secret entrance?” We have a secret entrance? Why wasn't I told? I mean, I know about the tunnel, but - “Why wasn't I told?”
“You never asked.”
“Why - would I ask where the secret entrance is, if I didn't know we had a bloody secret entrance?!”
“I dunno.” I swear, if he shrugs like that one more time I’m going to make it difficult for him to ever shrug again after I drop a bloody huge boulder on his head! We have a secret entrance?!
“Rector! Rector Posster! This is Robert Coverhill and I have alongside me Senior Clubman Edward Mobbs!”
“Yes, Rector! It is I and Mr Coverhill - sorry, I’m being told Robert Coverhill KC - plus we have the Church surrounded! Give the three men and yourself up, if you please?! No point in going into unpleasantries! I’m sure you see the sense in -“
“Sorry! No can do! It’s kind of a moral thingy! I think I may have - Principles?!” Oh God. I wonder if there’s a cure? But this means there’s only one thing we can do. Right, “You three, it looks like this isn't going to work quite the way it should, if all things were less than equal, and things were more weighted on our side. It isn’t. Following me so far?” Blank expressions, every one, “Okay, It’s like this - Flit, you lead these three out of the recently discovered secret entrance -“
“I’ve known about it for years.”
“Flit. Shut up. Right, the ferret-like creature here will lead you to the outskirts of the town, over by the standing stones. Then, I’m afraid, you’re on your own. And Flit? I think it’s time we implemented Contingency Plan ‘Cap’s Eye’. Got it?” You better have, you diminutive demon.
Looks like plans have changed. And they better come through with that booze, I’m telling you. So far they’ve wasted a good fifteen minutes of my day I’ll never get back. Okay, they've gone. Better open up the Church before they start damaging the woodwork on that door -
“Alright! No need to shove! I was opening it!”
“Where are those three criminals!”
“Yes, Rector. Where are they?”
“Sorry, Mr Mobbs. They’ve gone. You can check if you like, but please don’t mess with the papers in the vestry? It takes my Curate hours to get them straight. Actually, now I think of it, be as thorough as you like.”
“You’re a little smug for being a criminal too, Rector?”
“How so?”
“Arrest him, Clubman Mobbs!”
“That’s Senior Clubman, Mr Coverhill. If you will, Rector?” That told him.
Again, I suppose I’ve got no choice. You know, I’m not sure I like this being paraded around the streets like a common criminal? I am an excellent criminal, with the looks to match. Treat me with a little - oh, whatever. No one’s out anyway, well, except for the usual bods, like Rancid Colin, Trish Treyne, Shouting Steve and Edwin Shitstain. Still no Sticks, however. It’s bothering me more than it should do, really. Ah, well, there’s nothing I can do right now, is there? Is there?
We’re at Tinkerleys. Ah, looks like they're opening the old theatre up? Suppose this means the Clubmen are moving to the top floor? Oh God, you know what that means? Stairs. I hate sodding stairs! Still, in we go.
That’s - the - first set - of - stairs! Phew! This is hard going! Up - yet more - stairs! I am knackered, I can tell you! Still - just - one - more - flight! Buggering Hell! I need a sit down! Ah, there! That’s better! What do you mean, unfit? I’ll have you know - oh bugger it. I’m too out of breath to argue. Almost there. Nearly. There.
“Comfortable, Rector?” Sarcasm? How dare he!
“Yes, thank you, Mobbs.” Git.
“There’s a seat there behind the desk, Mr Coverhill. Now, as we are all seated and ready -“
“One moment, while I retrieve my notes.”
“As you say, Mr Coverhill.” See how Mobbs emphasises that Mr? He wants the Taxman to know he’s in Clubman territory now. Like two pissing cats.
“Now, Rector Posster -“
“If you don’t mind, Mr Coverhill? He is under Clubman arrest?”
“As you say, Mr Mobbs.” Ooh. What a punch to the chest!
“Rector. As it stands, you have aided and abetted in the false imprisonment of three fugitives from the law, while simultaneously aiding and abetting them in said escape from the law.”
“Something like that, I suppose.” Oh, listen to my bravado!
“It is a serious thing that’s happened here, Rector? Laws were subjugated, flouted and curtailed. It simply cannot stand.”
“Okay, well, some of it, fine, was my fault, but you’ve got to take Flit into consideration -“ Who’s this now? You know, there’s nothing more bloody annoying than someone interrupting your interrogation. So rude.
“Commander Mobbs! You’re needed!” Commander, eh? He’s inflated his role a bit, hasn't he? I don't know. These people’s egos. Wouldn't know anything about that myself, though. Great. Now he’s gone, I’m left with Robbie the Pedant. Oh, I do so hate Taxmen at the best of times.
“So, Rector. I think we are acquainted?”
“Uhm, are you sure? I mean, I only saw you for the first time the other day -“
“Don’t bullshit a professional bullshitter, Posster!”
“Well, that’s certainly a side of this I didn't expect.”
“Come now!” Just look at that scowl! Like he’s tasted one of Flit’s experimental cocktails, “We both know what this is really about!”
“Do we, because I know, for me, you understand - I’ve no bloody idea what you’re talking about -“
“The Bones, Guardian! Where are the Bones!” Oh, bloody Hell.
“So, you would be -“
“I am the Vessel of Indigence! My name is beyond the low minds of the people of your time! I strode the Earth when -“
“Blah, blah, blah. Heard it all before mate. Get to the point.” Actually, I don't think that was me, even though I said it, the words formed in my mind to say it, and - oh, God. It’s that Festerell Akuter Frone geezer, isn't it? I think I’ve just turned into a passenger in my own head. Still, it’s my fleshy body he’s borrowing. He better not get it broken or damaged, or there’ll be Hell to pay! Ah, who am I kidding?
“Surrender the Bones, creature! Hell on Earth awaits you if you do not comply!” Melodramatic, isn't he? I mean, I suppose I could - wait! Of course! A slight amendment to Plan ‘Cap’s Eye’ - got it! Good. Well, passable. Sod it, I just hope it works?
“Well, I’ve got them somewhere safe -“
“Then tell me where!”
“It would be better and easier if I showed you?”
“Then lead the way, puny man!” Hey, less of the puny, mate! Although technically, I am leaving the Clubman Headquarters while still under arrest, but - oh, I’m sure it’ll smooth itself over? These things have a tendency to do so, don’t they? Actually, your right. They don’t. Bugger it. I’m committed now.
This is going to be tricky to time it right, but I just hope he doesn't notice the circuitous route I’m taking. See, we have to be in the right place at the right time. Just round this corner, then -
“You are planning something, puny man. I can tell.”
“Well, okay, if you think so, then why don’t you -“
Crash! Thwack! Kaboom! Hah! Got you!
“I say, Flit, my man. Did I hit the target?”
“I’d say so, Captain Hawtrey. Bloody good ‘un an’ all.”
“Really? I felt it pulled a little to the - I say! Wait there, old bean! Let a fellow load his rifle, eh? Jolly good!” Shit, he means me! Ooh! That was close! Bugger! Where did that Taxman go? He was right there? You know sometimes I just can’t catch a break -
“So, escaping custody, Rector? Where is that Coverhill chap?” See? It’s bloody Mobbs now.
“Beats me, Commander.” Well, everyone’s calling him it nowadays, aren’t they?
“Lucky I came along, wasn't it? Heard there was an old coot out here shooting at things.”
“I don’t know what to tell you, Mobbs. Sorry - Commander?”
“Well, quite -“
You know what, right now I think the safest place I can be is in custody? Hey! I might survive the next few days at this rate!
Yeah, right -
Oh, God knows I could do with a drink right now? But I’m thinking while this finger is festering, it would be best not to confuse healing with taking out the stump and waving it around at women, while dipping it in the Beer, and thus have it go bad again. No, I think a quiet sober day at the Church would do me some good. The days are shortening before - well, you know. And I know. We all bloody know. I think I might just go inside and speak to Him up There, on That. But - first of all, I suppose I should get out of bed. Oh, sod it. Five more minutes.
“You in there?”
“Of course I am Flit. Where else would I be?” That man is an idiot. And barely a man, when it comes right down to it.
“Right.” Alright. I suppose I have to ask.
“Why?”
“I dunno. Just wondered.”
“Flit, you imbecile, why wouldn't I be? Think about it.” Now there’s a journey on a high road to nothing, “Just open the bloody curtains and get me dressed.” Surely he can do that.
I think I’ll skip breakfast. I ate quite late last night anyway, not to mention this soporific and painful stump makes me feel a little nauseous. And if it’s one of Flit’s Greasers for breakfast, I wouldn’t stand a chance. No, I’ll get a liquid lunch later.
Hang on, wasn’t I just saying I wasn't going to drink? Sod it. Doesn't sound like me. And I do wish Flit wouldn't go so high with his hand there when he’s dressing me. It gives a man the wrong impression, you know?
Look at that rain, still washing the piss stains from the walls and running it downhill to the poorer areas of Upper Vaxham? Whatever. Surely that’s the advantage of living higher up the water table? And Churches are famously the centre of any town or city that’s being built, usually atop a mound. It doesn't help get rid of the mud though. Plus my shoes are getting ruined.
Oh God. And here comes that old Soldier, Captain Hallam Hawtrey. Blind as a - blind thing. He can barely see his finger in front of his face. Or anyone else’s. He makes guesses based on the length and breadth of the shape and colour of the blob that shimmers through the mist of his vision. He does have a tendency to attempt conversations with barrels every now and then, but he is harmless. Well, unless he has his old trusty musket in his hand. Then it’s every sodding man for himself. And trust me, I may not look it, but if I have to run, I can outrun the best of them. You know how it is - I only have to outrun the next person, because it’ll be more than likely they who end up with a shot in their arse, not me. Isn't it odd how most of these old Soldiers or Sailors are blind? Almost like it was on purpose for narrative structure? Hey! Shhh -
“Is that - Rector Posster? How goes it, old chap!” He worked out it was me a bit quickly there, didn't he? Am I that obvious? Don't answer that -
“Captain! Out in the rain, I see?”
“Yes, yes! For a minute there, I thought I might have walked under a waterfall, then I remembered - there aren't any waterfalls around here.” Excellent logic from the hard of thought there.
“Well, I simply must -“ Bugger. Almost got away.
“Oh, Rector? I meant to ask - why do you have a phallus on your hand?” You can bloody see that as well, can’t you?! God strike me down if I haven’t heard that a hundred times! Wait - I meant that figuratively? Please don’t actually strike me down? We both know I’m too pretty to die? Phew -
Anyway, sod him - and I meant the Captain, as you well know! Oh, whatever! I’m going to the Church for a lie down and some Brandy. Okay, who are these three when they’re at home? Well, actually, they’re at my home, but the question remains.
“Rector! Thank God you arrived! Can we go inside and ask you something?”
“Hmm. Okay? But I can answer questions on the streets just as well, you know?” Wow. They really want inside, and - wait! Why did he slam the door behind me? Oh, here it comes! It’s either death, the bones or - well I daren't think of that last one. No point in tempting fate. Besides, I haven’t been that regular of late, what with one thing or another, and it might leave an almighty mess.
“Sorry to do this to you, Rector, but we three require Sanctuary - Asylum.” They certainly need some kind of Asylum, that’s for sure.
“Look, it’s not really that kind of Church -“
“We three are Rum Runners, Cider Shakers - call it what you will. It was all in innocence to begin with -“
“Wait, you brew alcohol? Surely there’s nothing wrong with that?” And there’s even less wrong with drinking it too.
“Well - we don’t just brew it. We - manufacture it.”
“Right -“ Nope, still none the wiser.
“And -“
“As my colleague here is trying to say - the Taxman doesn't know. Or didn’t know. Well -“
“What they're both trying to say, Rector, is that the Taxman is here. And I think he’s here for us.”
“Okay -“
“Rector, it’s a hanging offence?”
“Right. With you. But Asylum?”
“We can make it worth your while?”
“Now you’re talking lads! Okay - names?”
“Ulver Benson.”
“Of the Severe Street Benson’s?”
“Yes, Rector.” Shit.
“How old are you?”
“Why?”
“Oh, no matter.” Shit.
“I’m Yab Piker, and this is Gordie Kiln.”
“Hi.”
“Sorry, don't know the Pikers or the Kilns?”
“We’re from Ropplewood.” Wow. Fascinating conversation, don't you think? Hey, this is real life, you know! Sometimes people just chat about shit! Well, just shut off your brain for a bit then. Shouldn't be too hard -
“Ah, I know the place. Not well, but I do know it.” See? Conversation.
“Well, it’s like this - we have an abundance of barrels, far too many for us to use ourselves. I would imagine the Church has a vault?”
“A bloody big one, yes.” It does. Full of dead bodies though. Hey, they all died of natural causes, you know, and hundreds of years before I even came to this town, so sod off with your unfounded allegations!
“We can fill it.” Bloody Hell! Now that would be a lot of - hang on. I’ll need to hide it from Flit. Given half a chance that little git would drink the place dry. I’ll keep the key to myself. I do hope you're following along? Just think of the money making potential of that much alcohol, and all I have to do is keep these three men locked in the Church? Surely there’s a bad side to this, but right now, I can’t put my missing finger on it.
“Right, well, we have ourselves a deal!”
“Thank you Rector!”
“Yes, thank you!”
“Thanks!”
Well, that’s done then. Right. How does this Sanctuary thing actually work then? I think I might have an idea, “Any of you fancy a tea? Sure? Right, that’s four teas. Flit!? Bugger. I’ve locked him outside. Right. I’ll just unlock the door a second and -“
“Rector Wilfred Posster! Under the command of His Majesty, open up and release to me the three men you have inside, so that I may arrest them for non-payment of duty and taxes!” Wait, I recognise that bloke? It was under a fog of Professor Bornostmere’s Restorative Elixir, but he does look familiar? That’s it! He asked me if the items I was selling were imported. Oh.
“Umm, I’m afraid I can’t do that, Mr -“
“Robert Coverhill KC.” King’s Council? Oh bugger -
“Well, Bob, my old mucker, these three have claimed the Right of Sanctuary, and as a Rector, I am obliged to -“
“The Right of Sanctuary was repealed by His Majesty, James the First in 1623.” Was it? No on told me?
“Well, as a Rector, I still have an obligation -“
“Rector! If you continue to harbour those criminals, I will have no alternative but to call the Clubmen here to forcibly remove them from the Church! And what is more, you will be charged with aiding and abetting -“
“Look, just bugger off, mate? Okay?” What a nob. Right. Time for that tea. Oh, I forgot, “Any of the three of you know how to make tea?” Ah, there he goes! Erm, Piker, I believe?
“That’s noble of you, Rector. To defend the souls of innocent men?”
“Well, not quite innocent, eh, Benson?” That shut him up. Besides, that Taxman, he’s all bluster. He won’t do anything about it. I bet he’s out there right now, scratching his arse trying to come up with a new plan. So -
Hum. It’s - very quiet out there?
“Here’s your tea.” Holy shit! It’s Flit! I mean, I shouldn't be that surprised, but -
“Flit? How in God’s name did you get in here? The door’s locked!”
“I dunno. The secret entrance?”
“The what? We have a secret entrance?” We have a secret entrance? Why wasn't I told? I mean, I know about the tunnel, but - “Why wasn't I told?”
“You never asked.”
“Why - would I ask where the secret entrance is, if I didn't know we had a bloody secret entrance?!”
“I dunno.” I swear, if he shrugs like that one more time I’m going to make it difficult for him to ever shrug again after I drop a bloody huge boulder on his head! We have a secret entrance?!
“Rector! Rector Posster! This is Robert Coverhill and I have alongside me Senior Clubman Edward Mobbs!”
“Yes, Rector! It is I and Mr Coverhill - sorry, I’m being told Robert Coverhill KC - plus we have the Church surrounded! Give the three men and yourself up, if you please?! No point in going into unpleasantries! I’m sure you see the sense in -“
“Sorry! No can do! It’s kind of a moral thingy! I think I may have - Principles?!” Oh God. I wonder if there’s a cure? But this means there’s only one thing we can do. Right, “You three, it looks like this isn't going to work quite the way it should, if all things were less than equal, and things were more weighted on our side. It isn’t. Following me so far?” Blank expressions, every one, “Okay, It’s like this - Flit, you lead these three out of the recently discovered secret entrance -“
“I’ve known about it for years.”
“Flit. Shut up. Right, the ferret-like creature here will lead you to the outskirts of the town, over by the standing stones. Then, I’m afraid, you’re on your own. And Flit? I think it’s time we implemented Contingency Plan ‘Cap’s Eye’. Got it?” You better have, you diminutive demon.
Looks like plans have changed. And they better come through with that booze, I’m telling you. So far they’ve wasted a good fifteen minutes of my day I’ll never get back. Okay, they've gone. Better open up the Church before they start damaging the woodwork on that door -
“Alright! No need to shove! I was opening it!”
“Where are those three criminals!”
“Yes, Rector. Where are they?”
“Sorry, Mr Mobbs. They’ve gone. You can check if you like, but please don’t mess with the papers in the vestry? It takes my Curate hours to get them straight. Actually, now I think of it, be as thorough as you like.”
“You’re a little smug for being a criminal too, Rector?”
“How so?”
“Arrest him, Clubman Mobbs!”
“That’s Senior Clubman, Mr Coverhill. If you will, Rector?” That told him.
Again, I suppose I’ve got no choice. You know, I’m not sure I like this being paraded around the streets like a common criminal? I am an excellent criminal, with the looks to match. Treat me with a little - oh, whatever. No one’s out anyway, well, except for the usual bods, like Rancid Colin, Trish Treyne, Shouting Steve and Edwin Shitstain. Still no Sticks, however. It’s bothering me more than it should do, really. Ah, well, there’s nothing I can do right now, is there? Is there?
We’re at Tinkerleys. Ah, looks like they're opening the old theatre up? Suppose this means the Clubmen are moving to the top floor? Oh God, you know what that means? Stairs. I hate sodding stairs! Still, in we go.
That’s - the - first set - of - stairs! Phew! This is hard going! Up - yet more - stairs! I am knackered, I can tell you! Still - just - one - more - flight! Buggering Hell! I need a sit down! Ah, there! That’s better! What do you mean, unfit? I’ll have you know - oh bugger it. I’m too out of breath to argue. Almost there. Nearly. There.
“Comfortable, Rector?” Sarcasm? How dare he!
“Yes, thank you, Mobbs.” Git.
“There’s a seat there behind the desk, Mr Coverhill. Now, as we are all seated and ready -“
“One moment, while I retrieve my notes.”
“As you say, Mr Coverhill.” See how Mobbs emphasises that Mr? He wants the Taxman to know he’s in Clubman territory now. Like two pissing cats.
“Now, Rector Posster -“
“If you don’t mind, Mr Coverhill? He is under Clubman arrest?”
“As you say, Mr Mobbs.” Ooh. What a punch to the chest!
“Rector. As it stands, you have aided and abetted in the false imprisonment of three fugitives from the law, while simultaneously aiding and abetting them in said escape from the law.”
“Something like that, I suppose.” Oh, listen to my bravado!
“It is a serious thing that’s happened here, Rector? Laws were subjugated, flouted and curtailed. It simply cannot stand.”
“Okay, well, some of it, fine, was my fault, but you’ve got to take Flit into consideration -“ Who’s this now? You know, there’s nothing more bloody annoying than someone interrupting your interrogation. So rude.
“Commander Mobbs! You’re needed!” Commander, eh? He’s inflated his role a bit, hasn't he? I don't know. These people’s egos. Wouldn't know anything about that myself, though. Great. Now he’s gone, I’m left with Robbie the Pedant. Oh, I do so hate Taxmen at the best of times.
“So, Rector. I think we are acquainted?”
“Uhm, are you sure? I mean, I only saw you for the first time the other day -“
“Don’t bullshit a professional bullshitter, Posster!”
“Well, that’s certainly a side of this I didn't expect.”
“Come now!” Just look at that scowl! Like he’s tasted one of Flit’s experimental cocktails, “We both know what this is really about!”
“Do we, because I know, for me, you understand - I’ve no bloody idea what you’re talking about -“
“The Bones, Guardian! Where are the Bones!” Oh, bloody Hell.
“So, you would be -“
“I am the Vessel of Indigence! My name is beyond the low minds of the people of your time! I strode the Earth when -“
“Blah, blah, blah. Heard it all before mate. Get to the point.” Actually, I don't think that was me, even though I said it, the words formed in my mind to say it, and - oh, God. It’s that Festerell Akuter Frone geezer, isn't it? I think I’ve just turned into a passenger in my own head. Still, it’s my fleshy body he’s borrowing. He better not get it broken or damaged, or there’ll be Hell to pay! Ah, who am I kidding?
“Surrender the Bones, creature! Hell on Earth awaits you if you do not comply!” Melodramatic, isn't he? I mean, I suppose I could - wait! Of course! A slight amendment to Plan ‘Cap’s Eye’ - got it! Good. Well, passable. Sod it, I just hope it works?
“Well, I’ve got them somewhere safe -“
“Then tell me where!”
“It would be better and easier if I showed you?”
“Then lead the way, puny man!” Hey, less of the puny, mate! Although technically, I am leaving the Clubman Headquarters while still under arrest, but - oh, I’m sure it’ll smooth itself over? These things have a tendency to do so, don’t they? Actually, your right. They don’t. Bugger it. I’m committed now.
This is going to be tricky to time it right, but I just hope he doesn't notice the circuitous route I’m taking. See, we have to be in the right place at the right time. Just round this corner, then -
“You are planning something, puny man. I can tell.”
“Well, okay, if you think so, then why don’t you -“
Crash! Thwack! Kaboom! Hah! Got you!
“I say, Flit, my man. Did I hit the target?”
“I’d say so, Captain Hawtrey. Bloody good ‘un an’ all.”
“Really? I felt it pulled a little to the - I say! Wait there, old bean! Let a fellow load his rifle, eh? Jolly good!” Shit, he means me! Ooh! That was close! Bugger! Where did that Taxman go? He was right there? You know sometimes I just can’t catch a break -
“So, escaping custody, Rector? Where is that Coverhill chap?” See? It’s bloody Mobbs now.
“Beats me, Commander.” Well, everyone’s calling him it nowadays, aren’t they?
“Lucky I came along, wasn't it? Heard there was an old coot out here shooting at things.”
“I don’t know what to tell you, Mobbs. Sorry - Commander?”
“Well, quite -“
You know what, right now I think the safest place I can be is in custody? Hey! I might survive the next few days at this rate!
Yeah, right -
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