Unmitigated mayhem
Shirley, to unnamed flunky at British Consulate, on hearing the schedule for entertaining Ellipsoids, after a long minute of lively laughter:
My dear sir. In the course of this journey I have talked down an attacking footpad, evaded thugs staging a strike, helped avert a mob-lynching, survived a poisonously overcooked roast, passed over half India in disguise, ridden out the worst Pacific storm anyone can remember, crossed from Japan to Russia in an experimental air vehicle, pulled through a potentially lethal lung infection in the midst of the Siberian wastes, nearly frozen to death, clung to horseback for better than twenty-four hours at a stretch, outlasted biting insects the size of rats, and had my transport demolished by a wild boar. My wife and our wards have similar tales to tell.
If you truly believe Lord Butterfield’s schedule can delay or interrupt our journey home, you are tragically mistaken. Kindly produce the book and the tokens, before we are forced to provide any unhappy proofs of our determination.
Every word is true, by the way; Shirley isn’t even bothering to exaggerate. (Well, okay, maybe the mosquitoes weren’t quite rat-size.) And, um, there are a few things he isn’t even mentioning. What can I say? Been a long, strange Ellipse.
And Heaven protect the British Consulate if the flunky doesn’t come across with the goods. See post title for what will happen.
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