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Chapter I In the year 1814 Bishop Matthew Ryuko left Yobdon for a matter of some weeks, and when he returned he was no longer Bishop Ryuko, but Monsignor Ryuko, with the ribanded black hat and official trappings of that worthy office. It so happened that the monsignor’s day of return coincided with the retirement of a venerable old Deacon of Yobdon, and the announcement of his replacement, one Professor Targete, a theologian formerly of Yobdon Crossing and recently of Yobdon Proper. The monsignor, being a kindly and somewhat inquisitive soul, determined to meet with Professor Targete as soon as good manners would allow. He understood that the citizens of Yob, simple and unrefined as they were, considered him to be something of a “philosopher king”, and, as this lofty title brought with it some level of responsibility, he hoped to cajole or entice the professor into shouldering that considerable burden alongside him. On the very day the monsignor resolved to ride out to the Targete estate, while lunching at his club, he was interrupted while reading an essay in his favorite periodical, The Front Page, entitled “The Official Review of U2’s “Song of Innocence”. “Pardon me,” a warm tenor intoned from behind his table, “Do I have the honor of addressing The Right Reverend Monsignor Matthew Ryuko of Yobdon?” The Monsignor quickly appraised the gentleman to whom those dulcet tones belonged, noting an average build, a studious posture and a cheerful but somehow depressing face, reminiscent of a small raincloud on an otherwise sunny day. “The very same,” Monsignor Ryuko nodded affably toward the empty seat across from his small table, “But I’m afraid you have me at a disadvantage, my good sir.” “The name is Targete, Monsignor. Professor Targete. I wish our introduction were under more agreeable circumstances; unfortunately, I have grave news, and there isn’t a moment to waste. You are familiar, no doubt, with Hammock Cat?” The monsignor chuckled. “I should hope so, my good man. Why, Hammock Cat has been the symbol of Yobdon since before I can remember. It is on our coat of arms and everything: Ego autem dixi plane haec gelido forum, you know.” “Precisely, Monsignor. Then you are aware of it’s significance, and why the information I am about to relay is so dire,” the professor let this ominous statement stand alone for a moment before adding, in a barely-perceptible whisper, “Hammock Cat…has been stolen!” |
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Sep 15, 2014 17:54
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| # ? May 18, 2024 13:45 |
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Sep 15, 2014 17:57
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WD-40 posted:Ego autem dixi plane haec gelido forum |
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Sep 15, 2014 18:11
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i love story time with WD. |
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Sep 15, 2014 18:12
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wth posted:i love story time with WD. |
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Sep 15, 2014 18:13
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wth posted:i love story time with WD. |
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Sep 15, 2014 18:14
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same |
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Sep 15, 2014 18:15
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wth posted:i love story time with WD. |
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Sep 15, 2014 18:16
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wth posted:i love story time with WD. |
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Sep 15, 2014 18:30
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wth posted:i love story time with WD. |
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Sep 15, 2014 19:18
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wth posted:i love story time with WD. |
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Sep 15, 2014 19:30
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i have the best boss |
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Sep 15, 2014 19:30
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what happens next tell me tell me tell me |
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Sep 15, 2014 19:35
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spoiler alert Its here 
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Sep 15, 2014 19:36
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Chapter II Once the monsignor had suitably regained his composure, the pair transferred to a private table upstairs of the club. Whiskey and seltzer were ordered, joints were produced in short order, and presently the two were smoking in chill silence. "That's better," Monsignor Ryuko nodded after a moment. "My heart, it isn't what it used to be, old chap. I was afraid I was having another one of my episodes, the only cure for which, I'm afraid, are quantities of Japanese caricature flipping-books, of which I presently lack pending a delayed shipment from the Orient." "I beg your pardon, Monsignor. My statement was thoroughly unchill, but these are trying times. Hammock Cat, patron of peaceful relaxation and just posting, has been missing from the Upper Left Reliquary of Yobdon Chapel since the day prior to your return to Yobdon Proper." "I beg your pardon, sir, but you must be mistaken," the monsignor chuckled, his noble face wreathed in relief. "I can see the Upper Left from the window of this very room, and Hammock Cat is most certainly there, swinging in a gentle zephyr of emptyquotes." Professor Targete gave a small, gray smile. "A clever forgery, Monsignor, quilted together by The Lady Duckington herself. She wishes to avoid another scandal, as I'm sure you can understand. If the public were to find out..." "It would be a disaster," the Monsignor finished. "The shitposts alone...but why bring this to me? Surely Inspector Watts over at the Bureau would be more suited to a mystery of this magnitude." "You haven't heard? The Inspector is currently in hospital," the Professor refilled his seltzer curtly. "Sick?" "Burns." "I see," nodded the Monsignor. "Knowing his history, it comes as no surprise, I'm afraid." The professor nodded and crushed out his smoldering roach. "So, Monsignor, may I count on your pledge of aid?" "Upon my word, yes," acquiesced the good Monsignor, producing a much-thumbed caricature book and flipping it absently. "Then I recommend we commence immediately, my honourable monsignor, before Lady Duckington's deception is discovered and Yobdon Hall is ruined...for good!" Lil Cunty fucked around with this message at 23:04 on Sep 16, 2014 |
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Sep 16, 2014 22:39
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amazing |
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Sep 16, 2014 22:42
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I don't even like replying to these threads because i can't contribute anything besides a 5. Keep it going! |
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Sep 16, 2014 22:53
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Chapter III The intrepid pair were soon bundled into a hansom, clattering through the streets of Yobdon on their way to Yobdon Hall, which had been with the Duckingtons for years and was the epicenter of Yobdon society. Anyone who was anyone found themselves at Yobdon Hall eventually, home throughout the years to bandits, sadbrains, politicians, trolls, artists and the more-than-occasional lunatic. Yobdon Chapel was situated near the entrance of the estate, a pretty building of lavender and azure, with stained-glass turtles in every window and the fraudulent Hammock Cat coat of arms swaying in the gentle Yobdon breeze from the Upper Left Reliquary. Professor Targete was bringing Monsignor Ryuko up to speed as the chapel came into view. "We have three suspects. The first, and foremost in my mind, is Herr Amhe, the German heister, whose motives in Yobdon are questionable at best. A rabblerouser and known fibber, that one. I'm familiar with him from my days in Yobdon Crossing." The monsignor nodded, "Yes, I've met him. A golden tongue, to be sure, but what of his heart?" "Pure lead, I'm quite certain, Monsignor, and he was the last person to have been seen near Yobdon Chapel before Hammock Cat's disappearance was discovered. However, he's no better or worse than our second suspect, Sir F. Arthur Fuckhell V, Duke of Yobdon Crossing." "A conspiracy of heretics...er, I mean, separatists, you think?" asked the noble monsignor tremulously, recalling the great schism that had split Yobdon Crossing from Yobdon Hall some years previous. "At first I was convinced it must be, for the coincidence seemed too great, but it has come to my attention that the Duke's motives may be purely personal. It seems he believes that Yobdon, or at least key figures in Yobdon society, are responsible for the continued defacement of his portrait miniature, of which I understand he is incredibly fond. The vandalism has apparently been going on for quite some time, although there are whispers that the Duke himself is behind the entire thing. To what end, I can't say." "And the third suspect?" questioned the monsignor as he and the professor dismounted the hansom and climbed the winding walk to Yobdon Gate. "The third suspect..." Professor Targete trailed away as he circumvented the gate and approached the servants entrance near the Yobdon kitchens, directly behind the chapel. "I pray to G-d that my suspicions are unfounded. It seems unlikely, given his position and power, but -" the inquisitive scholar's broke off, his expression stormier than ever as he rapped thrice on the servant's door. "You have heard, no doubt, of Ralpo the Idiot, King of FYAD?" "Upon my word,"gasped the old monsignor, flipping a caricature book with such vigor that it all but dissolved in his trembling hands. At that moment, the servants door was opened by Julio, that venerable old butler of Yobdon Hall whose forefathers had served the Duckington line since time immemorial. "Professor Targete, Monsignor Ryuko," Julio bowed, "her ladyship has been expecting you. But first, Professor, the answer to your message has arrived," the dependable old servant whispered conspiratorially, producing a small cylindrical tube from his waistcoat and handing it to the professor clandestinely. "Thank you Julio: I was hoping it had, which is why the Monsignor and I came round to the servants door before addressing Lady Duckington properly." "Of course, Professor," the butler nodded, laying a finger on the side of his nose with a wink before resuming his usual bland stoicism. "And now, sirs, if you will please allow me to escort you to the chapel, where Lady Duckington is waiting with the items you requested." As the trio entered the chapel, the Lady Duckington rose from an amethyst bench that was more chaise than church pew and greeted the philosopher kings cum criminal investigators warmly. A small teak cabinet to her left was laid with quill, paper, and a curious flared device, like a marriage between a sugar cellar and a french horn, that the Professor described as a "phonographic prototype", which he had purchased overseas through a solicitor and had shipped to Yobdon Hall at great personal expense. As the party settled into the vestibule of the chapel, tea and weed crumpets were served; the mysterious cylinder was inserted into a cartridge at the top of the phonograph and the following message could be heard clearly from the great brass flange: https://soundcloud.com/emilstrand/wd40 Lil Cunty fucked around with this message at 05:46 on Sep 19, 2014 |
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Sep 19, 2014 00:45
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+100 |
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Sep 19, 2014 00:47
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this is the best thing |
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Sep 19, 2014 05:13
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Chapter IV "Upon my word!" Monsignor Ryuko was up in a flash, attending the fallen Lady Duckington, who had given a dainty shriek and fainted upon hearing the great brass machine utter its cryptic missive. Sal volatile, brandy and a small nibble of weed crumpet soon restored that respected peeress to her typical unflappability, and soon the motley quartet were deep in conversation. "Terribly sorry to have alarmed you, my lady," apologized the dour Professor Targete, "but this phonographic device is useful for more than merely startling the fairer sex. The voice you just heard belongs to none other than my esteemed associate, the great Nordic spy Søt Anime Jente. Since that is most certainly his mellifluous voice, we can be assured the message has not been intercepted or tampered with on it's journey to us." "It is clearly encoded in cipher, of which i assume only you and he know the key?" inquired the wise old butler, Julio, a thoughtful expression on his care-lined face. "All in good time, Julio," the professor nodded. "Firstly, let me explain that Søt Jente has been living in Yobdon under an assumed alias and even more assumed pretenses, and has managed to ingratiate himself to certain circles with his talents for music and choreography. "Aha!" exclaimed the gracious and social Monsignor, flipping a brand new caricature booklet produced by the timely and ever-thoughtful Julio. "I thought I recognized the voice. Your...er...associate, wouldn't have anything to do with a recent RZNV revival that saw much success in the north end?" "Please, my dear Monsignor," admonished the professor gruffly, "Let us not attempt to 'send him to the docks', as the saying goes. Suffice to say, everyone in Yobdon is familiar with Mr Jente, and as such, he is privy to information unavailable to those of our...status and reputation, as it were." Monsignor Ryuko dipped his head in humbled acquiescence, absently tracing the outline of the Japanese seamstress with too-small petticoats featured in his caricature book with one finely-manicured finger. Lady Duckington hurried to fill the awkward silence and save her friend from further embarrassment: "But the cipher, Professor. You know what it means?" "Mr Jente and I have been following the suspects and their doings for some time," Professor Targete carried on as though he had not heard her. "Herr Amhe and Duke Fuckhell have been fairly untaxing, as they both spend considerable time in Yobdon Proper. King Ralpo's affairs have been somewhat more difficult to monitor, but our sources within the land of FYAD -" here the professor grimaced perceptibly before continuing, "-our sources within FYAD indicate that he and FYAD in general have been more concerned with our posting races than our coat of arms." "Yes, our Posting Durfament has been the talk of Yobdon and beyond," Lady Duckington's eyes shown with patriotic pride. "Piggie and I are so pleased. Yobdon has long been known for our musicians and artists, it's time we were known for our wit and wisdom as well. I have heard tell that betting-brackets were submitted to our bookmakers from as far as GBS!" "Indeed," said Professor Targete darkly, selecting a finely rolled blunt from a humidor on the tea table and lighting it with a votive candle dedicated to St. Smoobles the Martyr, who sacrificed himself not once but twice in service to Yobdon. "Indeed, Lady Duckington, the Durfament has been a boon for Yobdon and especially the Houses of Lisa and Duckington. The Durfament has also, unfortunately, been perfect cover for the breaking of rules, and as you know, rule-breaking is the one thing I WON'T abide in Yobdon. However," he continued grimly, "although we know that a crime has been committed, we have no evidence linking any of our suspects to the disappearance of Hammock Cat. In fact, all three of them have alibis for the time of the disappearance." "Is that what the message meant?" inquired Lady Duckington, refilling the Monsignor's teacup. "I'm afraid, my lady, that the message is more troubling yet. Mr Jente and I have long suspected that our suspects were merely men of straw, used as decoys by the actual villain as that ignoble person absconded with Hammock Cat, to what nefarious end I still cannot say." "So we are back to the beginning of the mystery, it seems," Julio stated carefully, his face an unreadable mask. "Hardly," weed smoke swirled around the professor's glowering face, "We are closer to solving it than ever before! As I was saying, our suspects were framed to appear guilty by our true villain...or should I say, VILLAINESS?!" Professor Targete leapt from his seat and pointed a long, studious finger at Lady Duckington. "J'accuse!" The party was in an uproar. Monsignor Ryuko rushed to the accused's side, ready to catch that good lady should she again release her hold on consciousness, while the ever-loyal Julio had retrieved an ancient but serviceable sword from the vestibule wall and was brandishing it in trembling hands, ready to defend the honor of his lady at any cost. The accuser, undaunted, continued in a voice of thunder, "Yes! That is what the message means, that is what my associate and I have been undertaking these past weeks to uncover. Monsignor, please forgive me for the deception, but I required an honorable and unbiased witness, an office for which your are undeniably suited, hence my invitation to Yobdon today. Hammock Cat was stolen by none other than the Lady Duckington herself!" "Upon my name, and my father's name, and his father's before, I will strike you dead where you stand, sir, for such insult!" cried Julio, rushing as quickly as his venerable legs would allow toward the professor. He would have made good his threat, had not the Lady Duckington called out at the last moment, "Julio, for the love of Yob, stop, lest innocent blood soil your blameless hands! I admit it! It was me! I took Hammock Cat!" The confession hung in the air like bongsmoke. The caricature booklet fell from Monsignor Ryuko's hand and fluttered to the ground. No one dared speak in the face of such a terrible revelation. "Yes," said Lady Duckington at last, tears of shame streaming from violet eyes, "It was me. I never meant for it to go this far." "But my dear," the Monsignor found his voice at last, "Why would you risk the reputation of Yobdon and the Duckington name?" "I'll try to explain," Lady Duckington dried her eyes with her handkerchief. "Julio, my most trusted servant, will you please retrieve the small chest from the Upper Left Reliquary?" The chest was soon retrieved and Lady Duckington continued, "As you know, autumn is upon Yobdon. What you may not know," fresh tears threatened to spill down those alabaster cheeks, "is that I...I love autumn." A collective gasp echoed throughout Yobdon Chapel, but the lady raised a gloved hand and went on. "It's true, I'm afraid. All my life, I've been hiding a secret. I'm...I'm basic!" Lady Duckington's voice was an anguished wail. "I admit it! I love autumn, and pumpkins, and even yogi pantaloons! But please, my dear friends, you must understand, my intentions regarding Hammock Cat, however misguided, were in no way untoward. Hammock Cat has never left the safety of Yobdon Chapel!" "Then why report it stolen at all?" interrogated Professor Targete, no trace of sympathy betraying his cumulonimbus gaze. "I didn't!" Lady Duckington protested. "It was you, Professor Targete, who noted the differences between Hammock Cat and my forgery, and began your investigation. I hoped my legacy would be complete before your investigation revealed the truth." "Your...legacy, my dear?" the gentle monsignor patted Lady Duckington's hand encouragingly. "Yes," she sniffed, producing a thread woven of name-drops and call-outs from the folds of her gown, at the end of which hung a small key. "Perhaps now you'll all finally understand," she whispered, unlocking the chest and revealing the contents therein: Happy Autumn, BYOB!  The End Lil Cunty fucked around with this message at 15:34 on Sep 25, 2014 |
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Sep 24, 2014 23:49
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 <---basic duckie
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Sep 24, 2014 23:59
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special thanks to gif god and forums favorite bacalou for the pretty gif special thanks to vocal vip and forums fascinator cute anime girl for the vocaroo special thanks to helpful hombre alnilam for responding to my jerkish pleas for help preemptive special thanks to fluffieduckie for not getting mad that i called her basic, i love you duckie! |
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Sep 25, 2014 00:00
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this is loving incredible |
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Sep 25, 2014 00:24
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wth posted:this is loving incredible |
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Sep 25, 2014 00:42
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wth posted:this is loving incredible i could never be mad at you wd-40. you're the best 
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Sep 25, 2014 01:16
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WD-40 posted:"Sick?" |
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Sep 25, 2014 01:37
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WD-40 posted:St. Smoobles the Martyr 
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Sep 25, 2014 02:33
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5, just 5. |
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Sep 25, 2014 02:40
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I love this so much. Goldmine. |
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Sep 25, 2014 10:49
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bacalou posted:5, just 5. |
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Sep 25, 2014 11:21
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this is a lovely story but the inaccurate use of Monsignor as a rank instead of title bugs me. our old priest was a Monsignor but he was just a priest, never tried for bishop |
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Sep 25, 2014 17:10
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i made matoi a monsignor because his av's new hat reminded me of a monsignor's little black hat, and also when i was little our monsignor was called monsignor mattie, which kind of sounds like matoi now granted, there were probably not a lot of notable catholics in 1814 english society, but if i were you i would be more worried about their flagrant use of of a phonograph 63 years before it was invented |
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Sep 25, 2014 17:44
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| # ? May 18, 2024 13:45 |
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lmao doxxed |
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Sep 25, 2014 18:05
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