A Study in Temperance (The Adventures of Ichabod Temperance Book 4)

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A Study in Temperance (The Adventures of Ichabod Temperance Book 4) Page 19

by Ichabod Temperance


  “‘ey, Euciligucides, you said you wanted another chance at that wittle cuh-whonialwist. Well ‘ere ‘e is!”

  “Roight! Thanks Euripides. Ee-yew duhdy piddle stain, nobody diswespects deh Gang of Ones! Oi’ll kills ee-yewse!”

  “What is this I am seeing but not believing with my own two eyes? My own little darling Snic, Snic is joining in the battle! Oh! Be careful my darling Persnicitus! But why do I tell you to be careful? You are magnificent! Never have you revealed this masculinity to Signora Francesca Angelina Marianna Sforza. You are my ultimate alpha male! How you effortlessly throw your large and cumbersome foes with such ease and derring do. I am entranced and thrilled at your performance, my dear! You make me flush with excitement and the titillations, I tell you!”

  “Hey Mr. Manlington, how about tossing me a weapon?”

  “Of course, Mr. Temperance! Here! Take this!”

  “This castle sags under its burden of weaponry. Every room, stair and hall, even the closets are swarming with suits of armor, piles of propped up pikes, swords, knives, spears, axes, and heavy maces. Amongst all that, you throw me a broom?”

  Manlington makes with a moue of disgust, while his voice carries the weight of his aesthetic distress.

  “I just placed everything in its proper order and it would give me the vapors were you to disturb anything.”

  The Icksy guy, he sweeps a scimitar swing from its course and gives a sharp jab in the tummy to the ruffian with the butt of the broom.

  Uppsey is now in full sword fight modus. Wielding a cane, he fights a heavily built villain with an improbably large scimitar, but this Uppsey, he is the skilled fighter, I think. Like the pugilist, he is happiest and safest when up close and personal in his dance partner’s face, but when the rude fellow tries to counter, the fantastic Uppsey is not there, for he has stepped behind the clumsy brute!

  “Hey! Cow britches! I come to aid my Snic, Snic. I hitch up my many skirts exposing a lucky world to a tantalizing glimpse of my luscious legs as I free them in effort to give you the big boot in the tushie! Ha, ha!”

  “Arrrr! Ooo did dat? Nobody kicks Eugacifraugi in the bum an’ gets away wiff it! Was it you, you Italian donnccia? Oi’ll fix you, Come ‘ere!”

  “I think not Signore Fraugi, to you I say, arrivederci!”

  “‘Ey! Eupicitwitides” Euripides calls, “ee-yew an’ Eucalyptusti get down ‘ere an’ dispose o’ deese vuh-min.”

  As I run from Ah-Fraugi-you-gassey, I see two more figures climb down from the scaffolding to join the combats, but three cloaked and hooded figures, they continue their mysterious works. There are now five scimitar-armed screaming banshee bad boys against our three heroes. For our boys, though, it is not looking too good in the arming department; all we have are a cane, a broom, and an amber stemmed pipe that I gave my Snic, Snic at Christmas.

  “Let’s me at ‘em,” snarls Thurston Purrington as he enters the room.

  “Oh no you don’t,” his Beulah Purrington informs him. “They’ve got blades and I expressly forbid you to partake in edged weapon fighting.”

  “Not to worry, sir,” smiles Manlington, smoothly slipping into position in time to catch Eucalyptisti’s mad swing. “I shall be more than happy to substitute.”

  He spins-ah the scimitarist into a series of dervish like pirouettes. Stepping through and under Eucalyptisti’s weapon arm, Manlington gives a sweeping upturn to the maneuver, sending the henchman into a forward flip to land solidly on his back. Manlington now stands with the giant sword, handle in hand and blade resting on his foe’s throat. It is an impish smile that inhabits his beaming features I think, si.

  Eupicitwitides madly swings at Ick-ah-the-bod, in a blind fury of swerved sword slashes. Ickity somehow has the ability to snap his body into one unusual body configuration after another in a deft display of self preservation. The little Ickzi, then he slips around his foe, always able to squirm away from the clumsy but hateful assault of his dangerous tussle mate. He is like a slippery eel the way he slithers about, trying to get a hold on his man without getting sliced. The bruto, he grabs the Ickzi by the seat of the pants and throws him down.

  “Doiy, eee-yew fecund stain!”

  With a mighty chop he almost get the little guy, but the Icks, he rolls outta the way. When Eupicitwitides turns and tries again, Ickzi steps in. Bending to put his shoulder into the over-sized leather enthusiast’s hip bone, he places his hands on his thighs.

  “Ehr-roarffe!” expels Ick-Ick as he leverages the sword boy’s own weight and momentum against him, up-ending Eupicitwitides high up and over his head. What goes up, must come down, and the higher they fly, the farther they fall, and this guy Ickzy, he drops this guy from pretty high, I tell you. You betcha!

  “Oh, my Snic, Snic! You must stay your foe and return to me my most scrumptious morsel of a man!”

  “Not to worry my dee-ah, I have this chap well within my power.”

  “That is very bold my sweet, when Euciligucides is chopping at your head with a five foot, twenty pound broad bladed scimitar.”

  “Ah, but your considerate gift of smoking utensils has proven to be just the thing I desire as I disarm and send my fellow into a bust of Sir Isaac Newton’s pedestal to knock him senseless, thusly.”

  “Magnifico my British Romeo!”

  Sergeant Cleese makes a timely entrance with a fifteen foot pole-arm that takes the spring out of Eugacifraugi’s hop.

  A hollow thud precedes the fall of Uppsey’s fight boy, Euripides. A smug look of satisfaction sits on the face of this dangerous personal secretary.

  “Oh, I say! Well done, my friends! Hear, hear!”

  “Agreed, Madame. That would appear to put the more fierce elements of this gang under control. I must make a confession. My name is not really Bobby Uppsey, Sr.”

  The bold butler gives us his true name.

  “And now I would like to introduce you to these other participants in tonight’s activities. Thurston and Beulah, would you be so good as to help our guests to the floor?”

  “Happy to sir! Come on, Beulah!”

  The Purringtons each grab opposite sides of the scaffolding.

  “Ready when you are Thurston. Heave!”

  Bracing a foot to the wall they push the construction platform over, spilling its hooded occupants to go rolling across the marble floor.

  The newly named butler fellow continues with a dramatic flourish. “Allow me to present, Jabez and Horbaz WilloughSickle!”

  The two cloaked men look up from the floor where they sit amongst the detritus of the broken scaffolding. With their hoods fallen back, their surprised, pale, freckled faces look up in angered consternation.

  “Hey! He’s ah-right! Ah-Look-ah there! It’s the Plumtartt coachie footmen!”

  The butler formerly known as Uppsey steps on the trailing edge of robe from the third cloaked conspirator trying to sneaky crawl away.

  Clutching the crawler by the scruff of their robe, he one-handedly holds his prize aloft, proudly proclaiming, “I present to you, our ringleader...”

  “Millicent Wallaby!” exclaims Ickzi in surprise. “Why would a nice girl like you get mixed up in some bad business like this?”

  “You Western pig! I am Snikle Liag, High Priestess of Nile-ists for Annuubnuub. We shall bring Him back to this world to claim his bride! To that end, we must possess these!” Her hands hold up four shiny rocks, three in one hand, and what can only be the ‘Great ‘Black Hope’ Diamond’ in the other.

  I almost lose my poop at the sight of these twinkling gems!

  “Hey! Just look at those babies! They just gots to be the ‘Jewels of Impossibility’! You betcha!”

  “That’s right, Signora Sforza, these are the ‘Stones of Ascension’!”

  ”How did you find them?”

  “They have been hidden in plain sight all this time, mounted into this stained glass window. There is no doubt, that at the Egyptian expedition of 1866’s return, the greedy Professor Plumtartt stol
e the gems for himself in his scientific endeavors. He cleverly mounted them into the stained glass window until such time as he wanted to bring them out for his selfish works. He died unexpectedly, leaving no clue to their hidden placement outside a small hint that he passed to Madame Plumtartt in the little phrase, ‘Hope is in the House’. Being unaware of the words’ importance, she inadvertently shared them with the household and injudiciously with the neighborhood. The ‘Great ‘Black Hope’ Diamond’ was known not only to us, but among the ring of thieves that surround the unsuspecting Plumtartt girl and her Manor. We then learned of another fateful development; a discovery of paramount importance. This daughter of the Professor is found to have a most singular similarity to the Goddess of our Cult. Persephone Plumtartt is an identical twin of the Great Pharaoh Queen Nefertatas! We knew that a fateful prophecy was in the process of coming into alignment. We brought forth our leader of old to play his part and he led us to the ‘Cubus Quartet’.”

  “However, I believe your efforts have come to an end, young lady.”

  “I think, not! Ha! Ha!”

  The storm that had abated, she ah-comes back with the double force now, I tells you! The thunder, how she shakes the big old house, and the lightning, how she is so frightening, casting the scary shadows, like that of a large man, approaching on the terrace. More flashes of lightning suggest that this big boy is not the figment of Signora Francesca Angelina Marianna Sforza’s imagination, no? Evah-rebody is dumbfounded at the slow approach of this menacing shadow. Breaking glass, she accompanies the pushing of a hand through the panes of the portal. This guy, he does not bother with the opening of doors, henh? He chooses instead to just walk through them. More glass shatters as the other hand pushes through and the rest of the unstoppable guy slowly smashes his way through the glass amidst a cacophony of lightning and thunder.

  This new cat, he came prepared to walk through the glass, I think, because he is all covered in the bandages. All eight feet tall of him is wrapped in-ah the old smelly rags. Phew! This boy smells rotten! How awful! Another awful thing is how our enemies have used this timely distracting diversionary intrusion to make the unfortunate comeback on our own momentary advantage.

  ~thud.~

  Oh, this bad sound comes from where Millicent hurled the Great Black Hope Diamond full force into her grasper’s face. The white butler drops her and recoils in shock and pain. The rest of the Gang of Ones use this as their cue to attack their holders.

  “Tee, hee! Eet loooks likes we’re naughtte beat yet! Tee, hee!”

  The deceitful WilloughSickle brothers! They throw off the Druid cloaks and draw their own bladed weapons. The blades are a long basket hilted broadsword, a Mortuary sword I think it is called for Jabez, and a pair of daggers for Horbaz.

  The bearded barrel man, Thurston Purrington, he rushes forward to grab up Euripides before he can knife the detective fellow. Ickzi rushes in to stop Horbaz from puncturing Manlington who is now struggling with Eucalyptusti, who is pretty steamed just-ah bouts now. Eupicitwitides is just short from draining Thurston’s bladder for him when he is broadsided by a charging Beulah who carries him to the floor in a hail of female fighting frenzy, driven out of her right mind at the sight of her hubby in danger. The stone-stunned, diamond delivery drilled detective is just barely able to swing his cane around in time to deflect the onrush of Jabez’s mad assault. Euciligucides has kicked the feet from my Snic, Snic! The steam-byker leather fanatic is up and now my beloved, most favourite husband of all is brawling with the fetish-clad brute! I do not know if Sergeant Cleese can hold out against Eugacifraugi. And our bandaged newcomer that I do not likes too much, he moves in-ah the straight line for the Plumtartt girl.

  “Hey! I know! I’ll just go run and grab up that big sparkly rock while everybody is ah-fighting! Oops. Maybe I should-ah not have said that part out loud. Watch out little druid girl, I wants those rocks!”

  “Oof! Hey! You-ah spin away and give me a heel kick in-ah my tummies! I’m-ah gonna get you! When I can breathe and gets my breath back and can get up off the floor, you are gonna be in the big trouble, you betcha!”

  In the meantime I sit and watch the many raging conflicts such as Ickzi and the Horbaz, as they tumbles and they fights-ah. The giggly grinning WilloughSickle brother, he has two large daggers at the face of little Ickzi who struggles to hold them at bay by holding Horbaz at the wrists.

  “Tee, hee! I could almost likes ye, Icky my boy. Oh, how it pains me to have to slit your throat and pop your lights. Tee, hee!”

  “If you are really a part of this ‘Nile-ist fer Annuubnuub’ cult, then how come you still have this ridiculous Scottish accent?”

  “Oh, Icky, once ye get started with the silly thing, eet be hard to stops.”

  I watches Manlington in his struggles with Eucalyptusti and Sergeant Cleese with Eugacifraugi. Blythe Cleese finds that she too, cannot bear to see her man in combat. When Eugacifraugi turns his back to her, she leaps to it and tries to find his eyes with her Swami claws. Thurston Purrington and Euripides struggle for possession of a knife. Beulah and Eupicitwitides have rolled to their feet and now circle one another, each looking for an opening of attack.

  Snikle Liag drops her hooded cloak to reveal her exotic, gold and blue-hued, Egyptian-stylized raiment. With a gleeful laugh she shouts out loud, “Welcome, Elyodnanocruhtraris! Come and take the destined Queen to await her mate!”

  The bandaged guy, he holds his hands straight out before him, oblivious of the many fights that rage about him. He is on a collision course with the Plumtartt girl. I thinks this is a not so good, so I gets to my feets and moves in between big stinky and little aristocraty.

  “Hey! Big Stinky! Ah-I don’t thinks you gots the invitation to be here tonights, eh-henh? I thinks you just turns rights around-ah before I haves to give a you the boots where you-ah no wants them! You bet!”

  “Oof!”

  Hey! That guy, he is a plenty strong, I tells you! He just-ah knocked me, Signora Francesca Angelina Marianna Sforza, a right-ah backs down on my bountiful backside-ah!

  But this allows my little Persephone that I love so much to snatch up one of the many swords that decorate every inch of this nutty place. With a wherewithal I did not know the girl possessed, she advances to her frightening foe. Skillfully ducking a foul embrace she rises to plunge her sword through her opponent’s heart with a powerful stab, I tells you! This strike of Persephone’s, it is very good, but her battle cry of, ‘at you!’, though seemingly effective, needs, in Signora Francesca Angelina Marianna Sforza’s eyes, a little work.

  Oh, how I am disappointed to see that the great fellow is unaffected by the mortal wound! He does not even register the grievous harm. Rather, he strikes Persephone down in a backhand slash. The giant then kneels and bends to lift his unconscious capture. With a fanfare of meteorological mayhem to announce his victory, Elyodnanocruhtraris squares his broad and bandaged shoulders, and then rises again to turn and leave. The blue-white light of the lightning show illuminates the monster’s black-rimmed eyes, revealing the ancient creature’s evil lamps of unnatural sight.

  Eugacifraugi continues to fight Sergeant Cleese, even as Blythe tears at his face. Actually, it is more that she clings to his head because now she is more concerned with her distance from the floor than the actual combat she is caught up in. Eugacifraugi reaches back and throws Mrs. Cleese over his shoulder and into her husband. Dis-enCleesed, he is able to render assistance to Euripides by dumping a suit of armor on top of the Purrington gentleman. Eugacifraugi and Euripides are joined by Eupicitwitides as Beulah abandons her fight to assist Thurston. The trio of Eugacifraugi, Euripides and Eupicitwitides go to Eucalyptusti’s assistance against a very elegantly capable Manlington. The odds prove to be too much for this formidable, even if he is rather flouncy, butler, as one insufferable cad, throws a heavy burglar tool in a blind side attack. The cowardly assault strikes the gentleman’s, gentleman, with a strong blow to the sword arm. These four men are now fr
ee to split their efforts in rendering assistance in the three fights that remain.

  My little Snic, Snic is magnificent in his abilities against the oafish Euciligucides. It is sad to see the outside intrusion upon the exciting combat in which he so surprisingly excels.

  The Ickzi boy, he is hanging onto this red-headed lanky Scotsman with all his ability to hold the dagger points from his face.

  The personal secretary is outmatched with his cane versus the sword. When the stick cracks, the butler togged man spins away from Jabez’s death slash, throws table, book and chair at his pursuer until able to draw a large rapier from the wall and just is able to parry a lunge meant to give him the cranial shiskabob. Their swords ring in sliding metal contact, ending in the hilts of the swords clanging together in a solid collision. The two combatants ram heads with the impact but both force their foreheads forward to drive the other back. Though the secretary wears a big, fresh, blue goose egg of a lump on his forehead from his diamond assault a few moments earlier, the gray eyes do not reveal an ounce of pain. A slight rattling of the swords from the tremendous energies being exerted against each other make them both appear to be caught in the grip of St. Vitus’s convulsions, but after a few moments of locked eye contact, the two, by unspoken agreement, shove away from one another. After only a slight hesitation to take each other’s measure, they rejoin the fray. Ringing notes of steel accompany the menacing, metal, musical, melody of murder in a deadly dance of slash and thrust.

  I look again where I see something happening with my Snic, Snic. The brute Eupicitwitides has taken up a table and thrown it at my man! It has struck him sideways and I can tell that it has re-injured his old ‘Badminton Knee’.

  The eight foot tall bandage wrapped man is headed for the door with an unconscious Persephone Plumtartt in his arms. There is no one to stop him. No! What is this! I cannot believe my eyes! The little page boy, I think is the Spikey, he runs up and begins a furious kicking of the monster’s shins. His soft, velvet, silver buckled little shoes do little to discomfort the monster, but it is a nice gesture I am thinking. He desists when Snikle Liag shoo-shoos him away.

 

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