15 September 2009
Meeting Mr. Strix

~ Lord Likely and the Bloody Nuisances, Part Three. ~
For the previous chapter, do please click here.
From the Journals of Lord Likely, Aristocratic Adventurer and Gentle-Man of Action.
THE VERY notion that we might have to apprehend a vampire seemed frankly ludicrous and absurd in my mind. I am a reasonable and rational fellow, and have no time for such ridiculous flights of fancy and superstitious piffle. If I cannot see it, touch it, hold it and feel it, I simply cannot believe in it. Thus, the only things I really have one-hundred per-cent complete faith in are my penis, and ladies’ bodies.
However, there was no doubting that something decidedly strange had transpired in the city last night, and after having read Dr. Elton Whelkbladder’s diary I was suitably convinced that this mysterious Mr. Strix chap may well be worth investigating.
Plus there were other small matters to take into consideration; such as the two, small puncture marks in the doctor’s neck, and the fact that he also seemed to be now lacking a heart-beat or indeed a pulse of any sort, symptoms which struck me as rather unusual, and which led me to conclude that some rum business may indeed be afoot.
*****
AND SO we thus found ourselves outside Mr. Strix’s stereotypically sinister-looking abode, readying ourselves to meet with Dr. Whelkbladder’s vicious attacker. Whether or not he was a vampire, Mr. Strix was certainly a violent and dangerous man, and was thus not someone I was prepared to visit without making sure I was equipped without at least three weapons, lest our conversation turned difficult and required a few bullet-points for clarity.
As I slotted some bullets into my trusty pistol, I noticed Inspector Spunkleford gently kissing a small, golden trinket he held in his hands.
“What is that you have there, inspector?” I asked.
“‘Tis a crucifix!” Spunkleford exclaimed, waving the cross proudly in the air. “If this Strix fellow comes at me, then he shall feel the full power of God, I tell you!”
“Mmmm,” I said, not entirely convinced. “Well, if it’s all the same to you, I shall take my chances with shooting him in the bollocks. That’s still got to ruddy well hurt, supernatural entity or not, eh?…Botter!” I exclaimed, suddenly noticing my man-servant cradling a lump of raw meat. “What on earth have you got there?”
“Well,” Botter began, earnestly. “If Mr. Strix is a vampire, I thought I’d better bring a steak to drive into his heart.”
I slapped my hand against my face and slowly drew it down over my proud features. “Botter, what you’ve done there is to…oh, never mind! Come on, let us get this over and done with, hmmm?”
With our final checks carried out, we turned and headed toward the foreboding house.
*****
From the Diary of Mr. Jonathan Creakshaft, Cab Driver.
I watched his lordship and the other two blokes head off up the path to the creepy-looking house, and then decided that I really wanted a smoke.
As I drew heavily upon my cigarette, I came to the sudden realisation that I really had nothing of interest to add to this narrative.
*****
From the Journals of Lord Likely, Aristocratic Adventurer and Gentle-Man of Action.
“WHY HELLO,” I beamed, lowering my pistol and raising my penis as the door was answered by a rather attractive-looking maid, and not the fearsome beast we had anticipated. “‘Tis a pleasure to meet you, m’dear.”
“Likely!” Spunkleford whined, in that tone of voice he reserves for spoiling for my fun.
“Alright, alright, inspector,” I sighed, switching seamlessly into professional investigator mode. “My dear, I wonder if we might converse with the master of the house, a Mr. Strix?…”
“Certainly, sir,” the beautiful, petite, raven-haired temptress cooed. “Would you care to follow me?”
“Anywhere!” I grinned, as we walked in after the delightful young lady, my eyes barely moving from her pert bottom as it wiggled seductively under her clothing. “Good heavens!” I whispered to Spunkleford as we carried on through the house. “That really is a first-class arse. Now there is something I would not mind sinking my teeth into, I can tell you.”
“Likely!” hissed Spunkleford, jabbing me in the ribs with his elbow. “Please!”
“Oh, do calm down, inspector. Crikey, it is no wonder your wife wants to leave you!”
“Oh, now Likely!” Spunkleford protested. “Now that really was below the belt.”
“A lot of marital problems are, as I understand it,” I winked.
“Ah, gentlemen!” boomed Mr. Strix’s voice, rather rudely interrupting what I considered to be some of my wittiest wordplay thus far. “Welcome, welcome!”
Mr. Strix was a tall, angular fellow with high cheekbones, jet-black hair pulled tightly back across his head, and dark, piercing eyes. He was dressed immaculately in a jet-black suit, and carried with him an equally-black cane, atop of which was mounted a silver skull.
In short, this fellow could not have looked more like a villain, even if he had the word ‘villain‘ scrawled across his face in Indian ink, and a kitten’s decapitated head held in his hand.
“Ah, Mr. Strix,” I smiled, walking up to the man and shaking him warmly by the hand, although the warmth part was most definitely from me; Mr. Strix’s skin felt as cold as ice. “Lord Likely, Aristocratic Adventu-”
“I know who you are, your lordship,” Strix grinned. “And I know precisely why you and the dear inspector are here. I presume this is something to do with that silly old fool Dr. Whelkbladder, yes?…”
“Well, yes, as a matter of fact,” I replied. “You see, the dear doctor has led us to believe that – and this shall sound ridiculous – that you are a vampire, sir.”
“Quack!” shouted Strix.
“It seems we were mistaken,” I whispered to Spunkleford. “I think Mr. Strix may be a duck. Possibly a vampire duck, I’ll warrant you.”
“Quack!” Strix repeated. “Dr. Whelkbladder is just a silly old quack. Do you know that when he visited me, he thought me to be on death’s door? Yet here I am, as fit as a fiddle! Clearly the doctor is trying to save his own dubious reputation by discrediting me with these preposterous accusations.”
I mulled over Mr. Strix’s words, looked at Spunkleford, and then turned back to Mr. Strix, my pistol drawn. “An interesting counterpoint, sir,” I exclaimed. “But I have been watching our little exchange in the mirror behind you, and it seems that you are lacking to the tune of one whole reflection. Care to explain that, my man?”
“Would you believe I lost it in a game of chance?” Strix smiled. I nodded in the negative.
And then the fiend lunged at me.
- Lord Likely.
Next Time in Lord Likely and the Bloody Nuisances: Buffet, the Vampire Slayer!
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