I was out in the conservatory just a moment ago, for my usual after work inspection of my beloved rare jellyfish collection. When who should I notice coming up the garden path but my good friend Lord Slubbensly. He was waving and looked altogether rather over boiled.
“Mr Fish!” he proclaimed, “Have you noticed anything missing around about?”
“…missing, no?” I answered.
“You should check, Fish, I’ve been in my greenhouse and couldn’t help but notice my very favourite begonia has vanished!”
Well, this was news, and Slubbensly’s attitude was altogether extremely intoxicating.
I immediately rushed to check on hamster, no he was not missing…
It was with the most absolute trepidation I proceeded back toward the conservatory, the flesh on my neck began to perspire, surely not… no, surely not!
…Sure enough all my horrors were confirmed when pull back the cover cloth and I looked upon the specially prepared display tank. The white and red Ventral sturgeons remained, unmolested; the Tanzanian micro slimes were still attached to their pseudopod. But to my greatest dismay my prized and very much treasured Galapagos jellyfish had quite simply vanished.
I stood there for several minutes barely able to conceal my rage from Lord Slubbensly. Taking note, he moved on to the winter garden and awaited my arrival in due course.
“What is to be done?” I pondered aloud, entering Slubbensly’s location.
“I haven’t the slightest, Fish.”
“Well, I won’t stand for it, I mean to make a meal of the vile culprit and I mean to do it tonight!” I proclaimed quite fiercely.
“How so? How would you expect to capture such a cunning and determined villain?”
“Why, my good Lord, how else but by laying a trap. And by baiting such a trap with nothing less than, than the Flagellating Dorchester!”
Yes, I know perhaps I had gone too far, perhaps such a prize as the Dorchester was out of the question to be used in such a vulgar fashion as to be bait for a trap? But I could see no other course of action. It was this or suffer the indignity at the summer faire of having a conspicuously incomplete display. I would never, never allow that.
That evening Slubbensly and I set about a plan. After several Earl Greys and a considerable quantity of scones and small cakes, made by dear Cook, we arrived at agreement.
Evening soon faded into night and the trap was baited, the Dorchester was set atop the specially prepared display tank. I had spent quite some effort ensuring the prize would be most comfortable, but still held some regret at exploiting such a fine specimen in a, frankly, very callous and heavy handed manner.
Nothing could be done to help that now; the alternative was quite simply unimaginable to say the least. Lord Slubbensly and I set ourselves in place and awaited the thief. The very thought of the cad in my conservatory a second night brought the bile to my throat, Slubbensly noticed my tension and placed a reassuring hand on my shoulder. I relaxed momentarily, and thanked my friend for the bolster. Normally I would have taken affront at such a physical display and quite forwardly reprimanded the chap, but it was my observation the fellow was as much attempting to calm me as himself, for the confrontation which I knew must take course this night.
The hours crept forth in mind-numbing monotony and not a peep from my combatant. At the fourth hour of morning, I decided to put a stop to this foolishness, I was quite frankly very tired, and had come to the decision to simply forfeit tomorrows contest at the faire. This year there would be no display by Mr. Fish, C. that was painfully obvious now and I could see no sense in keeping Lord Slubbensly and Myself from any more sleep this night.
I was about to rise from the hide when I felt Lord Slubbensly’s hand on my shirtsleeve, I faced him and followed his eye to the rose bed. There in the middle of the Carmines stood our fellow. He had not yet noticed us and ever so slowly proceeded toward the conservatory door. The filthy filibuster, I could have throttled him there and then but for the restraint of good Lord Slubbensly. We sat very still, transfixed as it were, the villain placed his hand on the doorknob and very carefully unlocked the edifice. Lord Slubbensly and I smiled as the criminal entered the conservatory, for we, if not he, were only too aware of the fate that would soon befall him.
A dull but deep sound issued from the room and I knew the trap had been activated, Lord Slubbensly and I waited a few moments more before we proceeded to the open door of the conservatory. We made a brief note of the situation therein and, both satisfied that our goal had been successfully achieved; I closed and locked the conservatory door.
The next morning the faire was in its fullest swing, and good Lord Slubbensly announced my display was next to be viewed. I took hold of the cover cloth and at the Lord’s cue whipped it quickly away to reveal my masterpiece. The Flagellating Dorchester made centrepiece its ruminations and testicular emanations at full bloom, unaffected by the previous night’s activity.
Both the white and red Ventral sturgeons flashed their Ventral protuberances. The Tanzanian micro slimes undulated their pseudopod to the delight of all who viewed them. But of greatest interest and fascination to all in attendance was the remarkable display of elegantly disembowelled male Homo sapiens, set in poured resin of the purest clarity.
What followed was a fabulous afternoon of congratulation and celebration, as it was decided no other display at the faire that summer, could possibly equal that of the esteemed Mr Fish.
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