Panache and the Great Hunt for the Acryli-Beast

[Panache]

Panache and the Great Hunt for the Acryli-Beast

A Victorian Tale of Horror told in Chapters

Chapter 12

The six of us walked through the quiet neighborhood. It was a lovely spring day and the sun shown brightly through the canopy of the large established street trees. Our security team seemed most delighted and excited for the opportunity to act as bodyguards. Mr. Mender had taken point and I was flanked by Mr. Splash and Mr. BEEDEE. The only misadventure we experienced on our short trip was when a passing motorcar backfired.

“GUN!” shouted Mr. Splash pushing me suddenly to the ground and throwing himself atop my person to shield me with his body.

“GUN!” shouted Mr. BEEDEE as he threw himself atop Mr. Splash for my additonal security.

“GUN” shouted Mr. Mender as he leaped atop Mr. BEEDEE thus insuring that I was well protected from incoming bullets or oxygen.

I should note our security ensigns share many characteristics. Each of the three are strong, brave, alert, and loyal. It should also be said that these gentlemen share a robust physique. I attribute this particular shared characteristic to the cracking sounds that emanated from my spine and my quick lapse into unconsciousness.

Apparently I blacked out only for a moment and awoke to find Todd loosening my tie and collar. He helped me to my feet. David stood nearby usefully laughing himself into tears.
Mr. Splash, Mr. BEEDEE, and Mr. Mender stood watch.

“It was just a car…” started Mr. Splash.

“…backfiring…” continued Mr. BEEDEE.

“…nothing to worry about.“ finished Mr. Mender.

“I see” I gasped when my lungs started functioning again. David eventually was able to control his laughter and wiped away the tears from his face and we continued down the street. I asked David if he thought that perhaps our security team was a bit too zealous in their duties. David returned his pocket square to his breast pocket. He smiled happily and remarked “I think their performance is simply marvelous”. I sighed.

We came to a charming white two story building with a small sign declaring it the “Freedom Kilts Celtic Center”. A large number of Garden Gnomes were carefully positioned in the small front yard. They were notable for both their large number and the disconcerting way they pivoted to follow you as you walked past them. Traversing up to the door to knock and we found it ajar and the interior dimly lit. We entered the shop and Todd moved to draw the curtains and provide us all a bit of light. A quavering angry voice yelled out “Leave them curtains alone and shut that door! These old eyes don’t see well in the bright light!” As our eyes adjusted to the darkened room we perceived a bent and gnarled figure leaning against the showroom’s counter. He wore a grey kilt of modern design and a full sleeved white shirt. The man had long white hair and a short trimmed white beard. His face was deeply lined and a pair of wire rimmed spectacles were perched on his nose. His manner was most unpleasant.

“You are the kilt maker known as the Wizard of B.C. ?” I inquired.

“That’s me alright, but who in tarnation are you? What are you doing in my shop? Why do you keep me up all night with your loud music? You call that noise music? I’ve told you kids to keep off my lawn or I’ll turn the sprinklers on the whole durn lot of you!” the old man shouted. Luckily Todd, David and myself as members of the League of the Moderators had to deal on a daily basis with an older member of the League named Mike at the Great Golden Hall of X Marks the Scot. Therefore we were both used to and inured against such crotchety and cantankerous behavior.

“I had ordered some 90 odd cold weather kilts under the name of Panache. I am here to both receive this order and to ask for some additional information regarding the Greater Acryli-Beast. We had corresponded about this.” I calmly spoke.

“Well why didn’t ye say so in the first place ya young punk! I got your kilts for ye. Now as I recall you had writ that you had found some information on this here Greater Acryli-Beast yourself. Let’s see it then!” he demanded.

Todd produced a copy of the information I had gleaned from our library. The Wizard snatched it from his hands with surprising speed. He read it quickly. He muttered to himself, “the Aurora Borealis is the key eh?” He then folded the paper up and put it in one of his pockets. He stood up straight “Well let me tell you something Sunny Jim! This is poppycock! The Greater Acryli-Beast has been extinct for at least 75 years. You go up North looking for one you and you are gonna find a big lot of nuthing! I can direct you on how to hunt the Lesser Acryla-Beast. They make pretty good sporrans. But this dream of yours was doomed from the start.”

I was crestfallen. David, Todd, and the three ensigns looked at me in disbelief. It seemed so wrong to have come to this point, with the expedition ready to plunge forward into the frozen North, only to be told our quest was in vain. A silence fell over us as we six shared a moment of shattered dreams and disillusionment. I searched for something to say but my heart was too heavy for words. I wondered what could possibly be said that could somehow make things right and break the dreadful stillness.

As it was I needn’t have bothered. The front door was suddenly kicked in and a short, slim and well dressed kilted man leaped into the store’s showroom. The man had dark hair, a neat beard, and flashing brown eyes. He pointed accusingly at the Wizard of B.C. “That man is an IMPOSTER! ”

With the light streaming in from the open door we could see the lines on the Kilt maker’s face were but greasepaint, his white hair a wig and his beard a false one. Todd grabbed these last two and with a tug they came off. Underneath was a much younger face and a thick head of blonde hair.

“McMurdo!” spat the imposter.

“Grant!” challenged the newcomer.

“Grant?” questioned Todd

“Grant!” pointed the newcomer at the imposter.

"McMurdo?” asked David.

"McMurdo” said McMurdo pointing to himself.

“Panache?” McMurdo asked pointing at me.

“Panache” I responded nodding..

“ROCKY?” said Mr. Splash, Mr. BEEDEE, and Mr. Mender in unison.

“Ugg!” said Rocky Roeger from the door. He continued, “look, I was just in the neighborhood and thought I’d drop by to say "hi" to Steve but it looks like I’m interrupting, so you guys just carry on and I’ll come back later.” With this Rocky turned directly about and left both the shop and this narrative.

I walked up to Grant, “What’s your game?”

He looked defiantly at me. “If anyone is going to have an Acryli-Beast sporran, it is going to be ME! ME! ME! Now I know where to look! You fools! You gave me exactly what I needed to know. Hahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahaha….” Now long acquaintance with David had given me a great appreciation for the diabolical laugh. In comparison to his, Grant’s cackling lacked the deep undercurrent of hostility that made David’s so menacing. Feeling that Grant had outstayed his welcome at the Freedom Kilts Celtic Center I decided it was time for him to depart. I looked to my three red shirted security officers.


“Mr. Splash, Mr. BEEDEE, and Mr. Mender may I have your assistance please?“ I called.

“Yes!” the three snapped to attention.

“The word “defenestrate” is seldom used in everyday conversation, which is indeed a pity as I feel it is a most wondrous and dynamic word. Such a word should not die out because of obsolescence. It must be burnished with use. ” said I

“Perhaps we can be of assistance…” said Mr. Splash pulling the drapes of the nearest window open.

“A terrible shame to let a word like that become obsolete” declared Mr. BEEDEE opening the window.

“For the sake of other lovers of the rich lexicon of the English language we must endeavor to do our best to insure a continuance in common usage” said Mr. Mender reaching out and grabbing a surprised Grant.

“Mr. Mender I didn’t know you participated in Highland Athletics?” I queried.

Mr. Mender explained, “I haven’t had that pleasure, but have been fortunate in being able to observe the caber toss on several occasions and feel that I have come to understand the basic principles” and having said this he took three steps toward the window before hurling Grant ahead of him.

There was a rather nasty thumping sound. I noted that Grant was still among us and there was a rather large cracked spot in the wall next to the open window.

“ A little to the left I think”, I observed.

“Allow us to assist Mr. Mender” said Mr. Splash

“It would be our pleasure” said Mr. BEEDEE

“By all means” responded Mr. Mender.

With this Mr. Splash and Mr. BEEDEE picked up the semi conscious figure of Grant and heaved him out the window. ” By my gorgeous, flowing, golden locks and firm round buttocks I will have my VENGEANCE….Arrrrrrggggghhhhh…” Grant screamed as he sailed straight and true through the portal and right into the fairly large maple tree just outside the window. There was a dull THUD and then silence.

We all walked over to McMurdo. “Are you with the Police?” I asked him.

“No, I just like messing up Grant‘s plans. It has become sort of a hobby” admitted McMurdo with a grin.

Then there was a thunderous explosion from within the showroom! I was unable to see where the source of this came from as I was instantly crushed under the weight of my security detail again. I wiggled out from under the pile of their heavy protection to see a gentleman with long white hair, a short beard and glasses clad in a grey dress kilt and lab coat carrying a smoking antique rifle in his hands.

“WHAT ARE YOU ALL DOING IN MY SHOP?” he demanded.




To Be Continued…