Sentence the Onehundredandtenth
And as for the dubious O'Hooligan Twins – why, they were in an appropriately named pub, enjoying a lock-in with the Shottstown Ladies' Quick-Draw Club in Penicuick, to whence the two very young sex-slaves kept in a state of lethargic abulia, paralysed by indecision, and numbed by a cocktail of cleverly selected and administered drugs, by the vile Martin Elginbrod, had been taken by a small party from the Club who had, while Elginbrod himself was occupied in occupying Bernie Westwater, stolen into Edinburgh through the Stygian dark of night and liberated them from the two imprisoning apartments their owner had placed them in and wheeched them off on galloping steeds into Deepest,
Darkest Midlothian and placed them in the safe-keeping of Big Mama Lou who was, after filling them with home-made Scotch Broth and crusty bread, watching over them as they slept that utterly unconscious sleep of the totally exhausted which really only comes after being kidnapped, womanhandled, transported those miles along lonely roads and plonked down in a warm steamy kitchen with an enormous woman who feeds you soup to die for, gives you a foaming, hot, scented, bubbly bath, wraps you in warm, fluffy towels, pats you dry and helps you into a cosy one-size-fits-all unisex onesie, and tucks you into a fresh, crisp bed in an adjoining room with a choice of soft toys and hot water bottles to comfort you for the ten or fifteen seconds it takes for your eyes to close and your gentle snores to fill the room; oh, such dreams those children dream this night; can it really be true that they are no longer possessed by the Master who has been their only companion for, oh it seems, forever, since they were bought from their first homes, his in the Czech Republic and hers in Romania, and brought to these few containing rooms in a place they knew not and from which they were never permitted to emerge – they did not even know each other; while far away, a tiny fumarole close by the surely extinct volcano of Edinburgh, emits just the tiniest hint of steam, is it enough, we ask, to indicate the forces beneath the surface which may be gathering for a cataclysmic venting of such wrath as made the citizens of Pompeii scream and cower and run – or is it just Elginbrod, back home and giving himself a nightcap and wondering which plaything he shall indulge himself with tomorrow - only time will tell!
And as for the dubious O'Hooligan Twins – why, they were in an appropriately named pub, enjoying a lock-in with the Shottstown Ladies' Quick-Draw Club in Penicuick, to whence the two very young sex-slaves kept in a state of lethargic abulia, paralysed by indecision, and numbed by a cocktail of cleverly selected and administered drugs, by the vile Martin Elginbrod, had been taken by a small party from the Club who had, while Elginbrod himself was occupied in occupying Bernie Westwater, stolen into Edinburgh through the Stygian dark of night and liberated them from the two imprisoning apartments their owner had placed them in and wheeched them off on galloping steeds into Deepest,
Darkest Midlothian and placed them in the safe-keeping of Big Mama Lou who was, after filling them with home-made Scotch Broth and crusty bread, watching over them as they slept that utterly unconscious sleep of the totally exhausted which really only comes after being kidnapped, womanhandled, transported those miles along lonely roads and plonked down in a warm steamy kitchen with an enormous woman who feeds you soup to die for, gives you a foaming, hot, scented, bubbly bath, wraps you in warm, fluffy towels, pats you dry and helps you into a cosy one-size-fits-all unisex onesie, and tucks you into a fresh, crisp bed in an adjoining room with a choice of soft toys and hot water bottles to comfort you for the ten or fifteen seconds it takes for your eyes to close and your gentle snores to fill the room; oh, such dreams those children dream this night; can it really be true that they are no longer possessed by the Master who has been their only companion for, oh it seems, forever, since they were bought from their first homes, his in the Czech Republic and hers in Romania, and brought to these few containing rooms in a place they knew not and from which they were never permitted to emerge – they did not even know each other; while far away, a tiny fumarole close by the surely extinct volcano of Edinburgh, emits just the tiniest hint of steam, is it enough, we ask, to indicate the forces beneath the surface which may be gathering for a cataclysmic venting of such wrath as made the citizens of Pompeii scream and cower and run – or is it just Elginbrod, back home and giving himself a nightcap and wondering which plaything he shall indulge himself with tomorrow - only time will tell!
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