09 July 2007
An Uninvited Guest
June, 1856, early evening.
“How do I look, Botter?” I asked my much maligned man-servant, whilst straightening the cuffs on my finest dinner suit as I prepared to dine with Captain Anchor, on the HMS Bastard.
“Very handsome, milord,” Botter replied.
“Hmmm. I was hoping for ‘devastatingly gorgeous‘, or ‘criminally sexy‘, but ‘handsome’ will suffice, I suppose.” I admired my reflection in a nearby full-length mirror, to garner a second opinion from myself.
“My God, I look positively ravishing!” I exclaimed. “There shan’t be a dry seat at the Captain’s table tonight, I dare say.”
I picked up my hat and cane, and headed for the door.
“Now, Botter, you stay here and look after the place. Do not think for one minute that you may lie down on my luxurious bed, or use my bath-tub. I swear, if I find so much as one stray pubic hair in the soap, I will relieve you of your testicles. Understood?”
“Very good, milord,” Botter said.
“Excellent. I shall see you later, then. Don’t wait up!” I said, and I exited my cabin in high-spirits, blissfully unaware of the events yet to unfold…
I strode down to the dining-room, which took a good forty-five minutes due to the fact that the ship was so ruddy huge. At one point I took a wrong turn, and wound up in a lady’s dressing room, a mistake which added a full twenty-seven minutes to my journey. I finally entered the dining-room at seven o’clock, and joined the Captain at his table.
“Ah, Lord Likely,” said Anchor, rising to his feet to greet me. “So glad you could make it, your lordship. Hors d’oeuvre?”
“I’ve…already had a quick nibble, thank you Captain. I should like to go straight for the main course, if I may.”
“Of course! Of course!” bellowed Anchor, as I took my seat at the table. “Today, the main course is horse thigh stuffed with cabbage leaves. Will that be to your liking?”
“That sounds delightful,” I replied, laying a napkin across my knees.
“Marvelous. While we wait for our meal, may I introduce you to everyone? This here is my second-in-command, Renchard Dirigible,” he said, motioning to a thin, gaunt-looking chap with blonde hair, which had been waxed so heavily it looked like it had been painted straight onto his scalp. Dirigible nodded slightly, but said nothing.
“A pleasure to meet you too,” I said dryly.
“Then we come to our navigation officer, Jean des Lunettes, who joins us from the French navy.” Lunettes was a tall, old man, with a thin, white moustache. He also sported a pair of thick-rimmed spectacles upon his nose, which I found to be a rather worrying accoutrement for a navigation officer.
“Bon soir, Monsieur Likely,” Lunettes said, sipping a glass of wine. “It is very rare for me to meet a real-life aristocrat, ‘owever in ze revolution in la France, I did meet a lot of real-dead aristocrats, n’est pas? Haw-haw!”
I felt my blood boil as Lunettes guffawed loudly. The thought of my fellow aristocratic kin being purged by filthy commoners riled me, and I was almost ready to smash a bottle of Château Margaux right across Lunettes’ wretched face.
“Well,” I finally said, mustering an astonishing level of self-restraint. “The honour is truly all yours.” Lunettes stopped laughing, and glared at me, angrily.
“Ahem,” Anchor interjected, sensing a possible international slug-fest on the horizon. “Allow me to introduce the engineer of this fine ship, Sir Wilberforce Ingot Majestic. Without him, we would not be enjoying this luxurious Bastard right now.”
I took my eyes off of Lunettes, and turned to face Majestic. He was a stern-looking man, who’s face looked like it had been carved out of stone. He did have a first-rate pair of sideburns, however, of which I was rather envious.
“A pleasure to meet you, Lord Likely,” Majestic boomed, in a voice so loud and deep that I genuinely feared it might cause the entire room to collapse in on itself. “I have heard much talk about you, sir. I hope that not everything I have heard is true, as some of it sickens me to my very core, and makes me want to die.”
“BASTARD!” I yelled, causing some of my fellow diners to almost choke on their wine. Majestic’s eyes widened with horror.
“I beg your pardon, sir?” he roared.
“The HMS Bastard!” I continued, gleefully. “A fine feat of modern engineering, Majestic, very fine indeed. You are to be applauded for what you have achieved.”
“Oh. Well, that is very kind of you to say so, your lordship.”
“I thought so,” I replied, smiling.
“Finally, your lordship,” Anchor said, getting increasingly nervous. “I would like you to meet my wife, who I met while sailing through Asia. Your lordship, this is my beloved, Yu. Yu Anchor.”
I groaned, and wondered why the Anchors both had to have such ridiculous names. My misgivings quickly evaporated, however, upon clasping eyes upon the form of Mrs. Yu Anchor. She was a shapely, hazel-eyed beauty, with jet-black locks and a smile so bright I worried it might cause my retinas to burn up. I felt something stirring in my loins, and knew there and then that I hoped to one day penetrate this fine woman.
“Enchanted, Mrs. Anchor,” I said, lightly taking her hand and placing a single, soft kiss upon the back of it. “A genuine pleasure to meet you, Yu.” Mrs. Anchor giggled quietly, and blushed. I cupped her hands in mine, and gazed into her beautiful, dark eyes. Then, suddenly, the table gently rose up, causing Majestic’s wine to become up-ended.
“BLAST IT! My wine!” he shouted, as he leapt to his feet to avoid getting his lap soaked in booze. The kerfuffle caused me to snap out of my trance, and I too leapt to my feet, revealing to the rest of the table a most glorious erection trying it’s best to break through my trousers.
“I aplogise, Wilberforce,” I said, mopping up the table with a cloth. “I cannot think what happened there!”
“Confound it man, please try and control that…that…thing!” roared Majestic, as I accidentally tipped over another glass of wine with my Lord Palmerston.
“Sorry, sorry,” I apologised, trying to tuck the offending obtrusion between my legs. “It must be the motion of the sea, or some such…thing.”
“This is unforgivable, my lord!” Majestic grunted. “You have spilt ruddy wine on my very best suit!”
“Oh, please allow me,” I said turning to Majectic in an attempt to dab his jacket with a cloth. Instead, in the confusion, I wound up jabbing the poor fellow in the eye with my fully-engorged end. Majestic howled in pain, at which point I realised that the entire room was watching the fracas in stunned silence.
“Apologies, everybody. I have rather a massive lob-on at the moment, but I am sure it shall pass shortly. Please, resist the urge to gawp at my proud protrusion, and carry on with your meals. This awful business is between me, and my ridiculously huge penis.”
I bent down and whispered to the Captain, who was cradling his head in his hands, in utter despair.
“I had better leave, Captain. If this blasted thing goes off,” I hissed, pointing at my groin, “we shall all be in great, great trouble.”
And with one final wink and a wave to the Captain’s wife, I left.
It had been a very hard day, on the whole.
– Lord Likely.
Illustration: ‘Cock Candle’, by John Constable, 1827.
