Panache and the Curious Affair of the Gin and Tonic

[Panache]

Panache and the Curious Affair of the Gin and Tonic:


A Victorian Serial told in Chapters

Chapter 8

All was darkness and silence about us.

The mighty Saltire flew onward, her running lights a solitary point of illumination in the blackness of the void, the droning buzz of her eight massive engines the only sound in the vast stillness.

Well the droning of the engines and the tune “The Drunken Piper”

The Panaches had found the old hand cranked phonograph Spasm had brought aboard the zeppelin and had been delighted to discover that one of the old records that came with it was none other than a piper playing the tune “The Drunken Piper.”

Being that all the Panaches shared my love of Scottish Country Dancing several of them immediately formed sets in the Grand Salon to dance the vigorous “Reel of the 51st Division”.

It became a symbol of solidarity among the Panaches to keep the dance going as we flew. Those of the crew not on duty would slip down to join in for a dance or two to relieve those who became tired. The Panaches danced with boisterous enthusiasm . The cheerful yelling, clapping, and high raised arms (unheard of in most SCD dances) became a type of affirmation of life and a proof against the cold bleakness that lay outside the canvas fabric covering our zeppelin’s hull.

I joined in the dance to help bolster the crew’s morale, and in truth, lift my own spirits. Arlen, who shared a great affection for this wonderful dancing happily participated as well. . Even Trefor took a break from his work, assembling some strange instrument in the command gondola that Madam Pleater had including with the enigmatic “Needle” device, to clap and cheer on the dancers. After a while I hardly noticed the music, the clapping, and shouting. It was simply part of the sounds of the Saltire as much a part of her as the droning of the engines or Mr. Tibbles teeth gnawing at the odd passerby.

There was one member of our ship’s compliment that did not share in our Terpsichordian pursuits.

It had become very clear from the third or forth playing of the record in a row that Colin wasn’t overly fond of this particular piece of music.

Which probably made the constant repetition of the tune and various shouts and clapping from the Grand Salon somewhat vexing to him.

He put his concerns to me in the command gondola as I sat in the Captain’s chair thoughtfully regarding the Stygian shadow that enveloped us.

“WILL YOU MAKE THEM KNOCK IT OFF!" he screamed in my ear.

“Make who knock what off?” I inquired with a raised eyebrow.

“THAT GODAWFUL RACKET!”

I paused and listened, “Do you mean the dance music?” I asked

“WHAT ELSE?" he shouted. I noticed that a vein in his forehead seemed to be pulsing in time to the music.

“Calm yourself, dear fellow” I encouraged him.

“I WILL BE CALM WHEN I DON’T HAVE TO LISTEN TO THE SAME BLOODY STUPID TUNE PLAYED OVER AND OVER AGAIN!" Collin yelled in a rather uncalm manner.

“It makes people happy”

“IT DOESN’T MAKE ME HAPPY!”

“Well you don’t count…err…that is to say that …that you are single person…the Panaches are people”.

“I am not so sure about that!” he glowered

“Well nevertheless I…err…we…err…they….outnumber you . So you should take it up with them if you want a break. I’m…that is to say…they are reasonable”

“I am not so sure about that either!”

“Well Colin you are just going to have to handle this yourself” I said firmly.

“I WILL!” he shouted and headed off in a huff up the ladder into the belly of the airship.

Sighing I regarded Trefor putting some final adjustment on a device that for all the world looked like a small crystal candelabra lamp perched atop the navigator’s instruments. Tightening a final screw the whole thing began to rotate. The clear crystals sparkled beautifully even in the harsh lights of the cabin.

“Done!” exclaimed Trefor happily.

“Wonderful Trefor! Capital! Splendid! Absolutely Imperial!” I congratulated him

“Um…what exactly does it do?” I then somewhat sheepishly asked.

“Well if I have assembled it correctly it should detect the rips in the fabric of the Universe, better than that it will also detect traces of the passage through these that will linger in the wake of the MapleLeaf. With this guide we can follow the MapleLeaf and Grant anywhere through Space and/or Time.” he explained.

“That is Marvelous!” I exclaimed

Trefor continued “The only problem is that we have get close enough to either a rip or the trail of the SOKS blimp to get the initial lock “ Trefor gestured at the blackness without “but it is a bit of a needle-in-the-haystack sort of search with all this nothing to look through".

“Fear not my dear Trefor! I am have faith that Grant's warp to my weft will ensure that we find it.”

I instructed the pilot to maintain our present course and speed, before heading up the ladder into the ship.

“Where are you off to?" asked my Welsh companion.

“Off for a spot of lunch and a dance or two” I replied.

Below me our new bright crystalline guide spun on, somehow searching the darkness.



To be continued.

[Wompet]

... and high raised arms ...

Hmmm ... good thing you don't have Pipe Maj. Duncan MacLean on the Saltire with you.
Raised arms, indeed!

[McClef]

I think I need to work on a trans-dimensional rubber chicken detector.

[rodandy]

Nothing for over a month?

It seems likely that there is much more than a single gin and tonic at work here.

I've only found this thread today and have been able to read it all in a single afternoon. Now there is yet another thing to jones over...

Yes, McClef, by all means get busy on that trans-dimensional rubber chicken detector.

[Weasel Mender]

Nothing for over a month?

It seems likely that there is much more than a single gin and tonic at work here.

I've only found this thread today and have been able to read it all in a single afternoon. Now there is yet another thing to jones over...

Yes, McClef, by all means get busy on that trans-dimensional rubber chicken detector.

I have this HUGE firecracker shall I light it????

[McClef]

Part of the problem is the DNA profile of the rubber chicken. Ideally one needs a sample for analysis so maybe Wompet or another SOKS member can "accidentally" scrape it with their sgian or kilt pin and capture the falling sample in their hose...

[Wompet]

Suddenly, the phonograph skipped. It was not a standard skip, either; a horrid screech emanated from the device. When the music resumed, it was no longer the "Reel of the 51st Division." No, now it was Wagner's "Walkürenritt" that echoed throughout zeppelin. And with those chords, a sense of dread came over the crew.
As one, they turned their horror-stricken faces towards the Captain.

"Jamie, save us! You have to write us out of this!"










Sorry - Grant had that picture that was just begging to be used ...

[ccga3359]

Part of the problem is the DNA profile of the rubber chicken. Ideally one needs a sample for analysis so maybe Wompet or another SOKS member can "accidentally" scrape it with their sgian or kilt pin and capture the falling sample in their hose...

Well there's your problem Trefor, you just can't get a decent rubber chicken these days. They all just cheap plastic crap moulded by the thousands in an undisclosed sweat shop in large asian contr...






...Opps, I think I doth say too much! Where's that delete button... Preview Post? No that's not it. Submit Reply? Nope that's definately not it. Let me try this one...

[ccga3359]

...CRAP!!!! Where's that edit button?

[ccga3359]

That's not it...