04 September 2007
The Outlawed Likely
July, 1856.
It is not often one learns that they have a hitherto unknown half-brother, who is on the run from the law and who is partial to wanton acts of bestiality. Indeed, many people may go through their entire life without learning such a fact. However, the Likely family tree is a tangled, over-grown mess, concealing many dark secrets in it’s twisted branches, so such revelations are more common place to me than I would care to admit. Ever since my late father regaled me with the story of my great aunt, Tabitha Likely, who hospitalised twenty-two men using nothing more than her ample breasts, I considered myself well-prepared for any further murky revelations about our family, but as Ludlow recited the list of Lance Likely‘s nefarious activities, I am not ashamed to admit that even I was a little shocked, a feeling that only grew as Ludlow unfurled a poster he retrieved from behind his seat in the carriage, and displayed it to me.
I felt a shiver creep down my lordly spine, as I recollected the instance when I had the misfortune of seeing my own (ridiculously handsome) face plastered all over such a poster. I felt a tinge of sympathy for my poor, persecuted half-brother.
“Shit,” was all I could muster, as the reality of the situation began to manifest itself.
“Shit indeed,” Ludlow concurred, rolling the poster back up. “Lance is in a whole heap of it, right up to his rather fetching stetson.”
“So what do you propose we do about this, then?” I asked, although I had a fair idea of what the answer would be.
“I thought we might go and find Lance, before the law does. If we can locate him, and bring him back here, then we could keep him from going to jail, or worse. Sheriff Lawman‘s jurisdiction only extends as far as Dinkle County, in the South, so if we succeeded in getting Lance away from there, he should be safe. I feel it’s only right that we protect our own, don’t you agree?”
Ludlow’s reply confirmed exactly what I had predicted. A rescue mission to the Deep South, to retrieve a murderous half-brother who’s idea of recreation was to insert his penis into the backsides of cattle. It sounded ludicrous, but with the memory of my own recent incarceration still fresh in my mind, I felt obliged to spare Lance the same indignity.
“You are quite right, of course,” I took a swig of whisky from my hip-flask. “We Likely’s must stick together. I shall assist you in any way I can, my dear boy.”
Ludlow brightened, and slapped me heartily on the back, causing me to spill my drink upon my trousers. Botter immediately scuttled over to me, and began dabbing at my groin with a handkerchief. I could not be readily sure as to whether he was merely performing his duties as my man-servant, or whether he was just eager to touch my crotch. Either way, I let him continue.
“I knew you’d come through, Lordy!” Ludlow exclaimed. “I have been following reports of your astonishing adventures for years, and I thought to myself, ‘Lordy won’t shy away from this particular adventure!’ And I was right. Hooray!”
For the first time since stepping onto American soil, I felt my mood lift, as the prospect of a full-blown adventure lifted my spirits considerably. I do so love a big, beautiful bastard of an adventure. Thus cheered, I could not help but echo Ludlow’s own cheery sentiments.
“I just hope America is big enough for three Likelys! I fear we may need to extend the continent, just to accommodate our collective manhoods! ” I beamed, pouring some whisky into a glass and offering it to Ludlow. “May I propose a toast, to our dear father Lord Eustace Likely - may he and his rampant todger rest in peace!”
I held my flask aloft, ready to receive the toast, but there was no chinking of glasses. I noticed Ludlow’s beaming countenance had transformed, and he now bore a look of puzzled confusion.
“Rest in peace?” Ludlow scratched his head. “Father is not dead, Lordy. He’s currently living with a tribe in South Africa, in a small village that he himself has mostly populated. That’s typical of father, isn’t it? Ha!”
I said nothing. I simply dropped my hip-flask in shock. I was not sure if I could take many more shocking familial revelations in one day.
“Ah, here we are!” Ludlow peered out of the carriage’s side window, treating his latest news as if he had merely informed me of the weather forecast. “Home sweet home! Come on, Lordy, let’s get you inside and ready for the party tonight! It shall be the biggest party New York has ever seen, I reckon!”
I continued to sit still, like a statue. An undeniably ravishing statue, at that. Botter edged towards me.
“Are you alright, milord?” He asked me.
I raised my eyes to his. “Botter, go inside and find me the biggest receptacle you can, such as a bucket or something of that nature.”
“Are you feeling travel sick, milord?”
“No. I want you to find the biggest receptacle you can, then fill it with booze. I propose that tonight, I shall get absolutely, one-hundred per-cent, truly and utterly shit-faced.”
- Lord Likely.
