The Secretive Seven

Bluebottle wrote:And I seem to have fallen of the face of the earth.

How strangely apt.   

{{{My gawd! Does he truly think just because he's one of the Bluebottle-Herrings he should be in every scene..   }}}

THE SECRETIVE SEVEN

11

Halfred Fysyksfreke sat on the window box of his chamber wondering where the others had got to as he disractedly worked on a prototype jet propulsion system for the War Effort, using a screwdriver, a bucket of pegs, and a tobacco tin, a selection of tools peculiarly unsuited to what he was trying to achieve, though he only claimed to be an Atomic Propulsive WhizzbangTheoretician and not a Pragmatist; I mean, it wasn't like he would be captaining any Lunar Fighter he designed the propulsion system for.

Suddenly - as tends to happen in these tales - he caught the sight of three scurrilous figures slinking in the gardens below.

"Why I wonder what they're doing?" he asked himself as he tinkered with tin and screwdriver unconciously devising a cyber network-fuel-thingee. (It was all very technical). "Oh dear! It's that butler chap, Eldorion; and Lance and Bungo, I think, two other servants whose actual roles I can't remember, though one is a sewer brusher I do believe. Working Class types..." Halfred winced. "But why are they slinking about.... and with what look like rifles under their arms... and why are they heading for that garden shed in the pottager yonder? And who is that walking nonchalantly ahead of them clearly unaware he is being followed by three nonsuches with possibly murderous intent? Oh it's Eric Bluebottle-Herring... Well, I must follow and see what is about to transpire. The plot thickens, what."

And Halfred climbed out the window and presently climbed down a rose trellis and was soon sneakily following the three Working Class sorts.

Little did he know but three pairs of female eyes were watching him from the back verandah of the manor. Those eyes belonged to three beautiful young shapely women, clad in rather chic short skirts and rather fetching nylons and low cut floral blouses, themselves wondering what he was up to as he crawled about among the bushes, peeping surreptiously through leaves and around pots of aspidistras, and over the top of urns of peony roses....

 

Orwell wrote:

Bluebottle wrote:And I seem to have fallen of the face of the earth.

How strangely apt.   

{{{My gawd! Does he truly think just because he's one of the Bluebottle-Herrings he should be in every scene..   }}}

Oh, I meant no such thing.  

I was merely reflecting on how life imitates art sometimes, or art life, or life life.. One of those.   

Im always falling off the face of the Earth, I often land face first in the Earth, its an occupational hazard   falling, landing, over & over till one is quite giddy ! Best have a long lay down I say & view things from a different prospectus. Carpe Diem, or, school desks to you & me. {{{ I much prefer being under them tho ? }}} Mysteries of life...........

THE SECRETIVE SEVEN

12


Eric Bluebottle-Herring disappeared through the door of the garden shed and Halfred slipped around to the shed window where he found Peter listeninig intently and Odovacar peeping with something of disappointment on his face. The three girls soon joined them.

"What's happening in there?" Julia wanted to know in a whisper.

"Nothing much," Odovacar mumbled.

"I heard them say something about the prototype of a deadly device to defeat the Germans," Peter said.

"How is that nothing?" Halfwise wanted to know.

Odovacar only yawned. "I've seen enough," and he shambled off.

"What's up with him?" Amy asked.

"He said something about it alll being rather dull and got that silly disappointed frown he gets..."

"The one that makes him look goblinish?" April inquired.

"That's the one... Shush now!"

"What are they saying now?" Julia wanted to know impatiently.

"Shush, I said. Oh my... They're talking about a Doomsday Device... .. Shush!... No, no.... They're talking about a Doomsday Carrot..."

"What the f#^*?" Julia exhaled. "What on earth is a Doomsday Carrot?"

"Well, if you'd just shut a moment I might hear the answer to that."  

"Sounds like one of those things you put in the stories you write to amuse us, Julia," April grinned.

"It does now that you come to think of it," Julia frowned suspiciously.

"A Doomsday Carrot?" Amy mused aloud quietly. "A device to defeat the Germans? Does that mean David and my Fjordianlandian Cousins are secretly working on some clever weapon to win the war quickly and thus save millions of innocent lives?"

"I bet it is," April beamed. "I never knew David was so clever."

"He's a 'Farmer'." Halfred commented abruptly. "A member of a family of buccolic hillbillies - originally - I heard...."

"Don't be jealous," April said kindly. "I'm sure you could think up something just as dangerous - if you really put your mind to it."

"I could you know," Halfred said brightening up. "Though I wouldn't use something as rustic as a carrot. I'd use something much bigger and shinier if I made a weapon of mass destruction."

"Shush!" Peter hissed. "What was that? I think Eric Bluebottle-Herring said something about World Law and the Geneva Convention... Shush! ... And David's started crying. What's he saying? Oh he said, 'It's not fair. We could have killed every German with my Doomsady Carrot and now you're saying it would be a Crime Against Humanity, Genocide and just not Cricket!' Oh my. David threw something squashy against the wall!"

A moment later they saw David stalking past the corner of the shed. "Fjordianlandian Lawyers!" he cursed and stormed to the house.  

A few seconds later the three Fjordianlandan Cousins came past too.

"Perhaps we could take Halfred into our confidence," Ringo was saying. "When I was in that lovely boy's room late last night, I noticed he had a rather interesting prototype of a Lunar Fighter on his desk..." The Fjordianlandians passed out of earshot.

Halfred grinned. "I knew he was impressed with my Lunar Fighter," he said softly, more to his self-satisfied self than the others. But they heard him.

"What was Ringo doing in your room late last night?" Julia wanted to know.  

Halfred came out of his self-satisfied revelry and found five pairs of interested eyes on him.

"Pardon?"

"What was Ringo doing in your room last night?" Peter asked. His slow brain seemed to be slowly ticking over. A new thought came at last. "Actually, I did hear some squeaky noises last night which woke me. I thought it might be bedsprings. And lots of girly giggles come to think. I thought I was dreaming."

"So, Halfred," Amy asked. "What were you two doing?"

"Something for the War Effoprt - of course - isn't it obvious... is it not - isn't it?" And Halfed grinned with a face that flushed red suddenly. "And, of course... I must keep it secret."

"Even from us?" Julia wanted to know in annoyance.

"Even from you," Halfred smiled suddenly, seeming quickly to have recovered his composure. "Some things, I feel, should always stay behind closed doors."


THE END




"Yes,  hinges

THE SECRETIVE SEVEN

POSTSCRIPT


"I know the best place to hunt grouse on the moors," Eldorion was saying as he lead Bungo and Lance through the back gate of the manor grounds.

"I like getting away from those seven painful toffs," Lance said. "Pompous and pampered boors."

Bungo sighed. "I should be happy that all the loose ends have been tied up, I guess.   "

"He's a 'Farmer'." Halfred commented abruptly. "A member of a family of buccolic hillbillies - originally - I heard....

"Bucolic Hillbilly"?
   
Hey! That sounds like a new title!