06 May 2007
Romanov’s Last Stand
April, 1856
While Botter was enjoying his romantic liaison with The Bear, I was busying myself by creeping into Ivan Romanov’s office, gun at the ready.
The office was large and spacious, with a large, dominating map of the world affixed to the wall. Upon closer inspection, I noticed that most of the globe had been coloured in red, with ‘Russia’s Glorious New Empire’ scrawled upon it. I sighed. Romanov really was off his bonce.
“Admiring my new world order, Likely?” came a voice from behind me. I spun round to see Romanov, pointing a gun at me. I cursed myself for letting him get the better of me, and lowered my weapon.
“It does not look like order to me, Romanov,” I said. “It looks like chaos.”
“Ha! The ignorant always fear change, Likely. I, on the other hand, fully embrace the new.”
“Then I hope you will fully embrace your new life as a one-testicled man,” I quipped, referring to the injury I had kindly bestowed upon the Russian earlier. Romanov scowled.
“SHUT UP! You babbling fool, Likely. That mouth of yours will get you into trouble, you know.”
“Believe me, I know,” I replied.
“I am going to delight in your demise, Lord Likely. And then, when I have finished you off, I shall go and punish that fool The Bear for letting you go. I can be very unforgiving on those in my employ who betray me, you know. Take Miss. Nipples, for instance. I sent her to kill you, she backed out and…well, you know the rest. A terrible shame.”
“Bastard,” I cried, recalling the lovely Miss. Nipples’ tragic demise. “You sir, are a cock-knocker of the highest order.”
“Hmmm. Well, enough of this pleasant chit-chat. I am a busy man, Likely. Places to go, people to kill, Empires to build. I am sure you understand. It is time for you to die, I’m afraid…”
Romanov put his gun to my forehead. My mind raced through all the possible escape routes, which amounted to precisely none. Then, suddenly, Romanov was lifted aloft before me, and held in a vice-like grip that I was all too familiar with.
It was The Bear.
“WHAT ARE YOU DOING? PUT ME DOWN THIS INSTANCE, YOU IDIOT!” screamed Romanov, his legs flailing helplessly in mid-air.
“I am afraid your accomplice here has fallen madly in love with my man-servant,” I explained. “I know, I fail to see the attraction myself. Still, the upshot of all this is that The Bear now seems to be willing to follow Botter’s orders rather than your own. It is a peculiar thing, is love.”
Romanov wriggled frantically, and hurled a string of Russian obscenities at his humongous henchman, but to no avail.
“Evenin’, milord,” chirped Botter as he entered the room. “Sorry about the delay. I was just packing my arse in ice.”
“Botter, I could kiss you if you were not quite so ghastly and riddled with pox. Now, excuse me for one moment, I just have to do something…”
I walked up to Romaonv, and flashed him a broad grin.
“Augh-are you going to kuh-kill me then, Likely?” Romanov gasped.
“Oh, no. I shall let the relevant authorities deal with you. But I shall certainly do my best to prevent you from breeding, and foisting another Romanov upon the world. With all your talk of Empire building, I think it is only for the best.” I said. “Never let it be said that I leave a job half-finished.” And then, in one swift motion, I kneed the Russian right in the balls.
Romanov howled in pain, spat out a string of curses, then passed out. I dusted down my knee with a handkerchief, then returned to my servant.
“Botter,” I said. “Our work here is done. Would you be so kind as to secure Romanov to a chair or something? Then, get hold of Inspector Spunkleford and tell him we have captured the real killer of Miss. Eileen Nipples. “
“Righto, milord,” said Botter.
“Jolly good. But first, could you administer some first aid upon me? I seem to have lost rather a lot of blood, and would rather keep the remainder inside my body. There’s a good chap.”
Botter nodded, and toddled off to get some medical supplies. I watched him depart, then collapsed into a nearby chair.
- Lord Likely.
