The Astonishing Adventures of Lord Likely

“Well, come on then! What is that in your trousers, sir?” Lady Rydeham-Harde repeated.

I looked down at the considerable bulge in my pocket, then looked up at the lady, then to Inspector Spunkleford, who was frantically nodding his head in the negative as if to suggest that I should definitely not whip out my proud Lord Palmerston in front of her ladyship.

“Come on, man! Out with it!” shrieked Lady Rydeham-Harde. I did not need to be asked twice.

“Well, since you ask, m’dear, I shall show you,” I said calmly, and then I unzipped my flies, and liberated my throbbing organ from within my trousers.

“What on Earth is that?” gasped Lady Rydeham-Harde as she beheld my enormous erection.

“Oh, come, m’dear. You must have seen a penis before.” I replied. “This is my mighty Lord Palmerston…please, feel free to touch him, if you like. He will not bite, although I cannot promise that he will not be sick upon you.”

Her ladyship gently put out a hand towards my stiffened member, and then suddenly she grabbed it firmly in her hand, and began to twist it with all her force.

“You are a filthy and disgusting individual, Mr. Likely,” she hissed, as she applied further pressure to my poor love-pump, causing my eyes to water. “I want you off my property immediately, else I shall be forced to have you shot where you stand. Do you understand?”

“But I thought we – ” I squeaked.

“DO YOU UNDERSTAND?” she repeated, tightening her grip.

“Ruddy Hell!” I wheezed. “Yes, yes. Very well, whatever you say, m’dear.”

“I am not your dear, and nor shall I ever be your dear. Now, you have five minutes to remove yourself from my estate, or else next time I shall be removing this,” said Lady Rydeham-Harde, giving one final twist on my johnson. With her point clearly made, and my point clearly mauled, she released me and headed off back inside her house.

“Jesus cocking Christ!” I gasped. “What a woman! Did you see that, Spunkleford? That was the Venetian Cock Twist! Not many females know that particular maneuver, you know! Incredible…just incredible!”

“I am very happy for you, Likely, but you have seriously jeopardized our investigation now! I knew you would balls it up…I just knew it!”

“Calm yourself, Spunkleford! I am not going anywhere. Botter and I shall merely keep out of her ladyship’s way, and we will continue to investigate the murder of this poor, poor maid. I will not rest until we have solved the case – who knows, maybe her ladyship will reward me with another Venetian Cock Twist…”

“Do you ever think with anything other than your penis, Likely?” sighed Spunkleford.

“Well, it is my largest organ,” I explained.

“‘Twas a beast,” another voice added.

“Well, quite,” I said.

“‘Twas a beast that killed this poor lass,” the voice continued, and then a rather scruffy-looking gent with a big, ginger beard appeared beside us, holding a lantern above the dead maid’s body. “No man did this, I tell you. ‘Twas a beast. A terrible beast!”

“Well, thank you for your invaluable contribution, Mr…?”

“Grimes. I’m Grimes, the gardener,” said Grimes, the gardener.

“Ah, yes. You found the body!” Spunkleford said.

“What? You mean to say you lost it again? I already found it once.”

“No, I mean you were the man who discovered the body first, yes?”

“Yes. Oh, yes.” Grimes replied, his eyes widening with horror as he recalled the incident. “I was jus’ doin’ my rounds, like, and then I heard an awful commotion over here. I came to see what all the hoo-ha was about, and lo and behold – I saw it.”

“Saw what?” I asked.

“It. The thing. The beast. A big, hairy, lumbering great creature, it was. An’ he was crouched over the maid, tearin’ at her flesh. I yelled and shouted at ‘im, and waved my pitch-fork about, then the creature ran off into the dark and scary woods, over there,” Grimes explained, pointing to a wood which did indeed look dark and scary.

“I…see.” I said, feeling increasingly unsure as to Grimes’ mental stability.

“Listen, Likely,” Spunkleford said. “Her ladyship will be back soon, so you’d better make yourself scarce, lest you lose your manhood.”

Spunkleford was right. But where to go?

- Lord Likely.

Where Should Lord Likely Go?
( surveys)
You have until 22:00 hours PM(GMT) on Wednesday the Twenty-Second of April to cast your vote.

As an added incentive, one randomly-selected winning voter will be rewarded with a gratuitous link to their web-page in the next thrilling installment. But please note – we shall only be able to award said prize if you let us know which action you chose!

The last randomly-selected winner, who has thus earnt a free hyper-link placement upon his lordship’s journals, is…

Congratulations to you, m’dear!

Now choose wisely, dear readers…his lordship is in YOUR HANDS now.