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The Merry Wives of Elsinore might be like when there was another buzzing noise
and the kitchen was filled with light once more. There, imperious stare, high
collar, etc., etc., was
Emperor Zhark.
18
Emperor Zhark Again
PRESIDENT GEORGE FORMBY OPENS MOTORCYCLE FACTORY
The President opened the new Brough-Vincent-Norton motorcycle factory
yesterday in Liverpool, bringing much-welcomed jobs to the area. The highly
modernised factory, which aims to produce up to
A thousand quality touring and racing machines every week, was described by
the President as 'cracking stuff!' The President, a long-time advocate of
motorcycling, rode one of the company's new Vincent
'Super Shadow' racers around the test track, reportedly hitting over 120 mph,
much to his retinue's obvious concern for the octogenarian Presidents health.
Our George then gave a cheerful rendering of
'Riding in the TT Races', reminding his. audience of the time he won the Manx
Tourist Trophy on a prototype Rainbow motorcycle.
Article in
The Toad
, 9 July 1988
'Forget something?' I asked.
'Yes. What was that cake of your mother's?'
'It's called Battenberg.'
He got a pen and made a note on his cuff.
'Right. Well, that's it, then.'
'Good.'
'Right.'
'Is there something else?'
'Yes.'
'And ?'
'It's . . . it's . . .'
'What?'
Emperor Zhark bit his lip, looked around nervously and drew closer. Although I
had had good reason for reprimanding him in the past and had even suspended
his Jurisfiction badge for 'gross incompetence' on two occasions I actually
liked him a great deal. Within the amnesty of his own books he was a sadistic
monster who murdered millions with staggering ruthlessness, but out here he
had his own fair share of worries, demons and peculiar habits many of which
seemed to have stemmed from the strict upbringing undertaken by his mother,
the Empress Zharkeena.
'Well,' he said, unsure of quite how to put it, 'you know the sixth in the
Emperor Zhark series is being written as we speak?'
'
Zhark: End of Empire
? Yes, I'd heard that. What's the problem?'
'I've just read the advanced plotline and it seems that I'm going to be
vanquished by the Galactic
Freedom Alliance.'
'I'm sorry, Emperor, I'm not sure I see your point are you concerned about
losing your empire?'
He moved closer.
'If the story calls for it, I guess not. But it's what happens to me at the
end that I have a few problems with. I don't mind being cast adrift in space
on the imperial yacht or left marooned on an empty planet, but my writer has
planned . . . a public execution.'
He stared at me, shocked by the enormity of it all.
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'If that's what he has planned '
'Thursday, you don't understand. I'm going to be killed off
written out
! I'm not sure I can take that kind of rejection.'
'Emperor,' I said, 'if a character has run its course, then it's run its
course. What do you want me to do?
Go and talk the author out of it?'
'Would you?' replied Zhark, opening his eyes wide. 'Would you really do that?'
'No. You can't have characters trying to tell their authors what to write in
their books. Besides, within your books you are truly evil, and need to be
punished.'
Zhark pulled himself up to his full height.
'I see,' he said at length. 'Well, I might decide to take drastic action if
you don't at least attempt to persuade Mr Paige. And besides, I'm not really
evil, I'm just written that way.'
'If I hear any more of this nonsense,' I replied, beginning to get annoyed, 'I
will have you placed under book arrest and charged with incitement to mutiny
for what you've just told me.'
'Oh, crumbs,' he said, suddenly deflated, 'you can can't you?'
'I can. I won't because I can't be bothered. But if I hear anything more about
this I will take steps do you understand?'
'Yes,' replied Zhark meekly, and without another word he vanished.
19
Cloned Will Hunting
OPPOSITION LEADER MILDLY CRITICISES KAINE
Opposition leader Mr Redmond van de Poste lightly attacked Yorrick Kaine's
government yesterday over its possible failure to adequately address the
nation's economic woes. Mr van de Poste suggested that the Danish were 'no
more guilty of attacking this country than the Swedes' and then went on to
question Kaine's independence given his close sponsorship ties with the
Goliath Corporation. In reply.
Chancellor Kaine thanked ran de Poste for alerting him to the Swedes, who were
'doubtless up to something', and pointed out that Mr van de Poste himself was
sponsored by the Toast Marketing Board.
Article in the
Gadfly
, 17 July 1988
Sunday was meant to be a day off but it didn't really seem like it. I played
golf with Braxton in the morning and outside work he was as amiable a gent as
I could possibly hope to meet. He delighted in showing me the rudiments of
golf and once or twice I hit the ball quite well when it made the thwack
noise and flew away as straight as a die I suddenly realised what all the fuss
was about. It wasn't all fun and games, though Braxton had been leaned on by
Flanker, who, I assume, had been leaned on by somebody else higher up. In
between putting practice and attempting to get my ball out of a bunker,
Braxton confided that he couldn't hold off Flanker for ever with his empty
promise of a report into my alleged Welsh cheese activities, and if I knew
what was good for me I would have to at least try to look for banned books
with SO-14. I promised I would and then joined him for a drink at the
nineteenth hole, where we were regaled with stories by a large man with a red
nose who was, apparently, the Oldest
Member.
I was awoken on Monday morning by a burbling noise from Friday. He was
standing up in his cot and trying to grasp the curtain, which was out of his
reach. He said that now that I was awake I could do a lot worse than take him
downstairs where he could play whilst I made some breakfast. Well, he didn't
use those precise words, of course he said something more along the lines of
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'
Reprehenderit in voluptate velit id est mollit
', but I knew what he meant.
I couldn't think of any good reason not to, so I pulled on my dressing gown
and took the little fellow downstairs, pondering on quite who, if anyone, was
going to look after him today. Given that I had nearly got into a fight with
Jack Schitt, I wasn't sure he should witness all that his mum got up to.
My mother was already up.
'Good morning, Mother,' I said, cheerfully, 'and how are you today?'
I'm afraid not during the morning,' she said, divining my unasked question
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