30 September 2007
The Last Train to Disaster
September, 1856
And so, with my birthday celebrations well and truly over, we must now return to the continued chronicles of my Astonishing American Adventure, an adventure so massive that it has so far taken some four months to transcribe. But then, would have you expected anything less sizable from my good self?
Let us now rejoin our exciting exploits in the former colonies…
July, 1856.
So, Botter and I left the New York abode of my half-brother Ludlow Likely, and took a hansom cab to the nearest train station, ready to travel out to the American South in the hope of locating my other half-brother, the criminal gun-slinger and cattle rapist, Lightnin’ Lance Likely.
We arrived at the train station by lunch-time, and as we departed the carriage of our ride I made sure to tip the driver, my tip being, “Never stick your todger in a grinder”, sound advice for anyone. Anyone with a todger, of course. That done, Botter and I then strode up to the station’s ticket booth to purchase our tickets for the next leg of our journey.
“Two tickets to Around Here,” I said to the bored-looking elderly man in the booth.
“Around here?” Said the old fool. “But you’re already around here, sirs! Why on Earth would you want to buy tickets to get to a destination you are already at, I wonder?”
“Ah. I see what has happened here,” I replied. “There has been an almost comical mix-up. You see, I wish to go to Around Here, in Dinkle County, and not ‘around here’, as you have said.”
“Around Here? Dinkle County? Why, they sound like made-up names, dreamt up by a lunatic, if you don’t mind me saying so, sir.”
“Well, I do mind you saying so. In fact, so much do I mind you saying so, I may well clamber into that booth at any moment, and demonstrate how very much I mind you saying so by slamming your face into the window, if you don’t mind me saying so.” I snarled, causing the old man to become rather flustered.
“Okay, sir, okay. Let me just consult my map, here,” the old goon babbled, unfolding a large map and spreading it across his desk. He poured over it for a few minutes, before finally locating our desired destination. “Well, blow me!” He exclaimed. “Whaddya know! There IS an Around Here, in Dinkle County. Forgive me sir, it’s just that it sounded so ridiculous I thought you’d made it up! Heh-heh!”
“Yes, I suppose it does sound rather amusing,” I said, lighting a cigarette.
“I mean, who calls a place ‘Around Here’, anyways? That’s just plain crazy,” the old man continued. “Just crazy! Okay, what you need to do, sir, is to take the train to Disaster, in Spittlesburg, and from there you have to take a short carriage ride to Brown Hole Gorge, near Shit Creek. From there, you can take another train through Spermatozoa, up past Crusty Flaps Gulch, and into Hemorrhoid. From Hemorrhoid you have to get yourself another carriage, and ride down through Sodomite Valley, into West Vagina, pass on by the Pissypants River, up into the Hairy Minge Hills and finally down into Felch City, near Cockshaft Canyon. Up over the Canyon you’ll find Around Here.” The old man looked up from his map, beaming with pride.
“I…see,” I said, raising an eyebrow in quizzical surprise. “That was most…edifying. And when is the next train to Disaster, may I ask?”
“Well, let me see…oh! Oh dear! I am terribly sorry sirs, but it seems you have missed the last train to Disaster by a whole… five and a half hours,” the old man said, consulting a pocket-watch. “There won’t be another train passing through until tomorrow, I’m afraid.”
“I beg your cocking pardon?” I snapped, simmering with barely-concealed rage.
“Ah! No, wait! You are actually early!” the old man corrected himself. “I was holding my watch upside-down. The last train to Disaster will be along in fifteen minutes. My mistake, sirs!”
“Marvelous.” I said, through gritted teeth. “We shall take two for that, then, if we may. First class, naturally.”
“There you go, sirs,” the old man grinned, pushing two tickets across the counter. “Have a nice day!”
“Well, I cannot see how it can get any worse,” I replied, scooping up the tickets and turning sharply on my heels.
Little did I know, as Botter and I boarded that last train to Disaster, that the rest of my day was going to get a lot worse. A lot bloody worse indeed.
- Lord Likely.
