🚀 go-pugleaf

Oh, I shall pay dearly for this, I know ... gerne biete ich mich dir an.

          *         *         *         *         *         *

Dismounting quickly to revive the antequated feelings in self's limbs, the
Roinn Oideachais gazed at the castle & moat which, swaying in the breeze,
assumed an air of distaste towards its surveyor meant to convey that it
knew full well that it had no business being here but that the burden of
putting the cart to the castle rested solely and dolefully upon the knight
in shining armo(u)r.  "Ich erreiche jetzt mein Ziel.  Die Falle ist
gesprengt."  Turning dime-sharply at this, Roinn beat self's brows in a
slightly exaggerated display of annoyance that self had omitted to ditch
the language before setting out.

Turning over a rock with self's foot, Roinn spat for good luck,
unfortunately missing the earth's depression; the saliva sparkled silverly
in the waning light of day.  The Roinn Oideachais did self's best to
pretend that either this had not happened, or it had been intentional, or
it was something which had escaped notice; only the stead gave it the
briefest and most discrete of smiles.  Then, the horse began to speak, as
it frequently did -- it had been silent thus far to catch its breath after
what it felt to be an exceedingly long ride, particularly considering that
Roinn did seem to be abusing the outlines specified by the pact which was
in operating between the union and management until the contracts could be
properly notarized --, thus: "Ah, my goodly frere knight! Such chevalor! At
yr equest, I've brought you to this undrinkable water, and I champion at yr
bituminous volition which spurs you on to thoroughly fare well.  However,
the sun fades; might I presently be relieved from your service?"  Roinn
waved the animal off, evidencing disinterest, but pleased that the creature
had not kept pace so as to require overtime.  "Morgen", self spoke away
from the already retreating figure so that the words were lost on the wind.

Placing the left hand index finger along the left side of the nose and
lightly drumming the cheekbone set high from Roinn's tendency to squint
when Smiling, self confronted the affronting circumstances.  O!, if only
self had been allowed to continue as a boy scout!  Alack, gaining entrance
would be as easy as, well, exactly however easy it would be for a boy scout
to gain entrance.  Roinn's ignorance shone.  With a wrist-flick on Roinn's
trusty motorcycle, the knight in shining armo(u)r could bound the moat as
per Hollywood action-adventure film stunt double; with only a slight
adjustment for the wind blowing N-NE in Roinn's trusty helicopter, the
knight in shining armo(u)r could after several circumspective approaches
set down on the far shore, or upon the thatched section of roof which might
give way and allow Roinn to, making allowances for the rather insistent
noise of Roinn's trusty helicopter, more or less take the castle guard by
surprise (though Roinn had some hesitancy about this method, it would have
to be admitted, though not by Roinn, who, without the expediency available,
thought it the most grand idea).  But, instead, Roinn had decided to cut
costs slightly and settled for a minimal wage-labo(u)r horse who had been
poor company (Roinn would quickly have admitted this).  Even so, without
the shining armo(u)r, the knight no longer in shining armo(u)r could
utilize self's trusty Camelot (The Official Supplier of Knight Accessories
World-Wide) Pocket Pole Vault (Item No. 72-3310) to full and glorious
effect (guaranteed still under warranty), but disrobing at present both
seemed unwary and offended the knight still in shining armo(u)r's sense of
Fashion.  Thus it came to pass that after exaspirited self-discussion the
Roinn Oideachais called across the moat to a hidden member of the castle
guard as to the least time consuming method of gaining access, and, after
first making clear that Roinn was not a boy scout, was referred to the side
of the castle where a pleasure boat was to be found bouncing noisomely on
the murky waters, which, distrussed, provided the Roinn Oideachais with a
means for passage.

Frightened by something which, for the sake of building up a degree of
uncanny suspense, will not be given an adequate description until much
later in the narrative, if at all, though that might result in unfair
accusations of baiting, the vicar, his face shrouded in a macabre terror of
intensity so great that it was very great indeed, shuddering ceaselessly
with violence, and tripping every few steps so that his condition was made
that much worse by the proliferation of bruises, made his way down
corrosive corridors where, periodically, he would stop to readjust the
quite ordinary pictures of sunflowers and archdukes along the wall, as his
sense of etiquette and aesthetics was as irrational as the fear presently
driving him, though to a much greater degree rooted, until he tumbled
headlong into the chambers of the ardent mycologist, who, without looking
up from the weekly newsmagazine he was reading, declared, "Thirsty work
bein' scared, i'n't it?"  The vicar fell nearly motionless on the
parquetry, venting in a manner more appropriate for small rodents.  After
some time of this, the vicar was soothingly offered a spot of tea to aid
his nerves, which he accepted in a mute stupor of disjunction, which
unfortunately prevented him from making the essential realization of just
exactly who it was supplying the liquid.

The Roinn Oideachais made an odd squeaking sound as self thundered in onto
the marble cakewalk, gazing with no small satisfaction at the palisade's
balustrades.  Self checked self's Digitalis (tm) watch to find that it
displayed a time of 3.45 GMT, which gave Roinn pause to sigh with an
audible disaffection correlating with the fact that Roinn did not quite
know how to mentally convert GMT to BST, as well as the fact that the visor
Roinn wore amplified all the sounds Roinn made so that, if Roinn was
unfortunately made to sneeze, it would result frequently in temporary
deafness; however, it had been a gift, after all, so Roinn felt compelled
to wear it (the watch, not the visor).  After flipping it open (the visor,
not the watch), Roinn started down the nearest hallway, uncertain as to how
to find self's way (O!, if only self had been allowed to continue as a boy
scout!), attempting to make as much of a nuisance of self as possible in
the hope that someone might provide directions to the control room behind
the morgue (which also held, the Roinn Oideachais knew, a far more reliable
Town-&-Country Bus-&-Train timetable, -- a comfort as Roinn knew how much
more enthralling train adventures were, besides freeing up the need for
transportation to and from the castle); in the process, Roinn rushed right
past a watchman stationed before a banistered walkway.  Stopping a few
moments afterwards, self felt that it would be most appropriate behavior to
return and give the watchman satisfaction if so desired, or allow him the
opportunity to try and call up the castle guard before Roinn ran him
through, or even try self's good nature by properly going through the
actions of groveling for his otherwise unnecessary except for a plot device
life.  However, before Roinn had managed to turn all the way around, the
detective had quickly altered his disguise from that of a member of the
castle guard to chaise-lounge.

          *         *         *         *         *         *

                         tbc, subject (as always) to her whim