Thursday, July 31, 2008

Choose Your Own Adventure

In order to move off our current story logjam I have a couple of alternate storylines. To set the stage Scaramanga, Captain Stuart and the martial artists have side adventure in the slums of Kowloon Walled City but ultimately return to Macau. While in Macau they encounter:
  • The actual historical Chairman Mao who is hanging out and enjoying jazz music in the back of the casino bar.
  • Dr. Who
  • Arthur Dent and Ford Prefect

Tuesday, July 22, 2008

Didacts and Narpets

Captain Stuart Turnips was just about to enter the terribly exciting and glittering Casino Lisboa with all the sexy possibilitites of high-stakes gambling, overpriced alcoholic drinks with funny names and improbable encounters with characters from his father's college years. He was with his new friend: the dread assassin Scaramanga. Following at a short distance: his motley assortment pseudo intellectual associates comprising his so-called "Army of Martial Artists".


This group, although clearly a collection of oriental fops and dandys, was trying its mightiest to appear menacing and tough to the street goers of Macao. They even went so far as to wield martial arts weapons whilst wearing black cotton gi derived from the Japanese Shinobi shozoku, which if the year were 1975-1980 rather than 1966 would have made them look pretty bad ass instead of like a bunch of underfed guys in pajamas carrying halberds, nunchuku, and bill hooks (n.b.: if you review the AD&D players handbook the latter can be a very effective weapon against larger monsters).




Captain Stuart was a mere lad with little framework for the relative cool-ness or nerd-li-ness of his entourage whatever the particular year of our Lord. Scaramanga, for his part was noticeably uneasy. He had a reputation as a world reknown assassin, gun for hire, and patron of the dark arts to uphold. Despite his dread reputation he really was a soft touch and could not resist the pleading of his minions in particular when someone in the party suggested that as a side trip, they go to Kowloon Walled City to pick up a first edition of Oscar Wilde's Lady Windermere's Fan that was rumored to be held by the Sun Yee On triad but which was being offered as the grand prize in a martial arts tournament to be held that very Sunday.





As is common knowledge, even to a time travelling pirate like Captain Stuart Turnips, the Kowloon Walled City is a completely poverty stricken, lawless, overbuilt, unplanned, urban heck hole that makes the hillside shanty towns of Sao Paulo or Nairobi look like Kensington or Mayfair.*

Scaramanga didn't mind going into the Kowloon Walled City. He felt that a trip to visit his old friend Heung Wah-yim, the leader of the Sun Yee On triad would avail him of some work in the so-called "mortality business".

Stuart for his part was just looking for a way to convince these fine people to help him rescue his crew from the CHICOMs and get back his ship the Blue Side of American. In his mind, which lacked even the barest rudiments of a plan, everything seemed to be going vaguely ok. Scaramanga seemed nice enough, the fops and dandys seemed earnest if not exactly lucid, Macau and Hong Kong had nice weather.

Scaramanga, Stuart and the assorted fops, dandys, and poets in Scaramanga's entourage entered the sunless, claustrophobic, urban nightmare of Kowloon Walled City and asked a nearby krone for directions to the infamous Lucky Dragon Bar and Go Go Casino which was reputed to be where Heung Wah-yim, conducted his business. The harpy coughed and spat a toothless grin at them. She shouted at them in Cantonese 傻瓜,烧毁的賭博娛樂場 (which roughly translates to "you idiots, the old casino burned down"). Scaramanga, who spoke perfect Cantonese dialect pointed at the old woman and made a gesture with his thumb against the back of his front teeth. The old woman suddenly realized who Scaramanga was as she was thrown off by his decidedly uncool associates. She decided to change her tack so as not to antagonize her interrogatories. She said brightly 去釣魚新的賭博娛樂場的腦子街道 (which roughly translates to "Very sorry, you should go to Fish Brain street for the new casino Lucky Dragon" although "fish brain" may well have been "fish head" in this dialect.)

Just as the old woman was about to return to her toothless spitting and cursing she recognized Captain Stuart. She pointed her crooked finger at him and motioned him over to her and whispered 您是畏懼的海盜白蘿卜。 我有警告可怕的消息,但是不能在您的同事前面告訴 (which if Stuart understood a lick of Cantonese would have told him "If you are the pirate Turnips. I have horrible message of warning that I must not tell in front of your associates")

As Stuart listened to the old woman he felt her garlicky breath tickle his ears and he began to giggle. Whatever this silly old person was trying to tell him was lost on him. He smiled as warmly as he could and wished her a nice day in his best church Sunday greeting. "What a nice old woman" he thought to himself.



*Until they were torn down by the Chinese and British in the mid 1990s, Kowloon Walled City was considered no-man's land between the People's Republic of China and British Hong Kong. The state of anarchy served the interest of the criminal triads and provided a haven for those on the run from either government.

A Glorious Return to First Person Narrative


I patiently surveyed my fellow players. Since I had taken my place at the elegant green gaming table, two of my fellows had mysteriously departed. They had been replaced by two stone-faced gents wearing Bishop’s miters for indeed they were bishops. Their thick fingers glittered with the regalia of office – a polished set of brass knuckles inlaid with the finest gems and gold thread depicting a sequence from the book of Daniel. Their thick bodies were encased in glorious purple fabric which glittered under the Casino track lighting.

It is well known, this type prefers the “Evelyn Tremble” method of Chemin De Fer and therefore I must absolutely, without fail, be on my guard at all times!

Presently, I made myself comfortable and began reviewing numerous stratagems before deciding on the “King’s Indian Defense” which sets up excellent gambits and allows me to avoid anti-Sicilian systems such as employed by Bishops, Knaves, Cutpurses, Footpads and some Fops. The central aim is to allow the opponents to build up a strong center which I then quickly demolish! Huzzah!

The dealer’s query of “Carte Monsieur?” quickly returned me to the task at hand however.

“But of course, sir” I replied pleasantly enough – it was a three of spades – I placed 15,000 francs worth of chips on the table. The faux Rakshasa hunter drew in a sharp breath but both Bishops remained calm behind their Ray-Ban style sunglasses.

Shortly thereafter the dealer, a certain Senor Wallace Chang, called “Neuf ala Banc” which as we all know means victory for your humble narrator. I shant bore you with the next several hands but they went a bit like this: KQP3, RkKntsPwn7, Pg4, Bb7, Hflat, 9, 8, 7, 9, and 5340orfight.

Child’s play – Lady M should be pleased.

My winning streak began to make me feel a bit peckish and so I called to the nearby waitress, hailing her with a friendly, “Madchen, Oh, Madchen!, over here luv!!”

She arrived toute suite and I ordered my favorite snack , the house specialty, funnel cakes with powdered sugar and extra whipped cream!

“Be a dear and make sure you bring the extra large order to boot!” I called after her as she bustled off.

Oh, I couldn’t wait for it to arrive!!! The flaky golden goodness; the creamy, sweet non-dairy whipped topping and naturally gobs and gobs of yummy powdered sugar!!!!

Seeing that I had a few moments before the next round and my snacks, I pulled out my favorite acoustic guitar and serenaded the adoring crowd with a special rendition of “The Look of Love.” (I strongly suggest that the reader acquire a copy of this fine song and play it whilst reading this thrilling tale!).

Serendipitously, the funnel cakes arrived on the Casino Lisboa’s finest paper-mache plates, embossed with the Casino’s logo as I concluded my number. I brought one to my nose to inhale the delicate aroma – ahh delicious! For the next several minutes I contented myself by munching on two funnel cakes at once – one in each hand (I’m sure Lady Lyme Weoghe wouldn’t approve – I as violating her sacred edicts against both gambling and messy eating).

The gambling could wait a moment – and the cards were covered with a fine dusting of powdered sugar anyway plus my hands were all sticky.

But wait, hold on a tic – my hands weren’t sticky enough – where the deuce was the whipped cream I’d expressly ordered!!!!! Fool of a chef!

I hastily asked the two bishops (I trusted them as they were men of the cloth) with the 750,000 francs I had on the table as well as the suitcase full of money Lady M left me.

“I’ll be back in a thrice after I show this establishment what for!” I bellowed.

Upon my return twenty minutes alter, with the proper serving of whipped cream topping I might add, I quickly deduced that the two bishops had scarpered off.

“Uh Oh, Lady Marzipan’s not going to like this” I quietly thought to myself.

“I heard that Woody, you imbecile” came an immediately recognizable voice.

I nearly jumped out of my skin “You should be more careful about sneaking up on people like that Lady Marzipan!” I added.

Lady M vented, “Shut your trap, Woodburger. What the hell is all this powdery stuff covering every inch of your clothes and the gaming table”

“Well you see, I was a bit peckish, need a funnel cake …” I was interrupted.

“You what??? Listen up brainless wonder, never mind, now tell me the truth, did you lose every franc I gave you for the single purpose of winning enough money for a second Q-Device” she asked.

“Yes” I replied quite meekly at this point.

“Did you ask two chaps wearing quasi-religious garb to ‘watch this money’ for me?” she continued somewhat sassily.

“Uh, yes” was my answer, in a near whisper.

“Stay right here dumbkopf” she said and then continued to Stuart and Scaramanga, “If he moves, feed him to the ornamental crocodiles in the Casino aquarium.”

“Alls I can say, is that I better get my money back” she added with finality.

Stay tuned for the next exciting episode “The Albin Counter-Gambit OR The Double Bishop Sacrifice

Monday, July 21, 2008

Who watches the watchmen?


Lord Turnips here yet again totally dominating (and being a dreadful bore in) the Barrister's Keepe with my myriad posts. I'll post something about Captain Stuart Turnips and Scaramanga and the casino in Macau very soon. But, I wanted to share something.


If you have not yet experienced Watchmen, the fantastic graphic novel set in the late 20th C., I urge you to check it out.






Sunday, July 20, 2008

A look at the future




Turnips here again,

A few more images to share with you. This first one is the future land coach for Captain Stuart Turnips. Wasting no expense, I had the crack engineers and scientists at Henry Ford's build this for me to Stuart's exacting drawings.



Isn't that a sleek design?




It is capable of enormous speeds on land, undersea driving and has powerful cannons that can devastate entire city blocks as shown by this picture of an abandoned stadium that suffered a near miss.





As I understand it there is a fund to help rebuild and preserve part of that stadium that you could send a few shillings to if you like. Lord Turnips and Captain Stuart are very red-faced about this incident.

More from 21st Century Livonia

Lord Turnips here again, I have a couple more images to share with you.

This image was captured outside a reknown public house known for its fine dinners of codfish and chips, ground cattle meat with bread, and noodles with redsauce. I believe Captain Stuart Turnips had yellow noodles with cheese and pieces of fruit.

If you click on the photo you will see the reknown Captain Stuart Turnips, his manservent Mongo, and the totem of the public house, a statue of what I believe is the Norse or Germanic demi-god of heating and plumbing repair Grosser Junge.

Legend has it that this demi-god will repair the air conditioning in Valhalla after Ragnarök. I believe I saw a depiction of this fellow during my time in Bayruth at the silly Götterdämmerung festival. Lots of crashing about for three days and a whole bunch of singing in hun language....Not old Turnips cup of tea at all.

Friday, July 18, 2008

21st Century Schizoid Man


Ahoy Oy,


Greetings from Lord Turnips and all the Turnips as I gradually make my way back from a brief trip to 21st C. Michigan. I won't bore you with all the details but I did encounter a couple characters from our narrative.


This is a famous female antagonist of our narrative next to her late-model coach. Curious that this coach was built in the land of Nippon. I wonder if the doors are made of rice paper and fish heads.

Saturday, July 12, 2008

Chemin De Fer en Macau


His imagination captured by the twin enticements of free liquor and petit fours, Woodpecker-Smythe sidled up to the Casino Lisboa bar. He ordered two drinks, a lemon squash and a gin & tonic .. for laters.

He honestly didn’t think Lady M would mind although it was physically challenging juggling two drinks, three Bacon-Wrapped Tiger Prawns on Skewers and a suitcase full of cash (in this case French Francs, the galactic standard gambling currency.)

Lady Marzipan had fronted the Lord two hundred thousand Francs in hopes of gaining a 20-fold increase - this profit to be applied to acquisition of another fiendish Q-device.

However, this was of little import to Woodpecker-Smythe at the present as he was generally oblivious to such machinations. In fact matters such as high-stakes gambling for world domination at the most intriguing casino in the known world rarely troubled the mind of Woodpecker-Smythe. His neurons fired lazily, often languidly between underachieving synapses more interested in acquiring tasty appetizers to fuel his self-important boasting .

At any rate, W-S soon found himself at the standard baccarat table with a conveniently empty seat. Oddly, some of his fellow players looked familiar. To his right, a sinister Mediterranean type who could have been Dr. Emilo Mixo’s double but with thinner lapels. To his left another individual who looked a lot like the Rakshasa hunter less the robes of office and cross-bow. As per usual, two other wealthy, expendable, otherwise non-descript players sat opposite him for dramatic effect.

W-S surveyed his competition and determined that his best strategy was to play ‘the somewhat clueless upper class British nob. Of course, that wouldn’t be much of a stretch.

“I say, anyone got change for five bob?” W-S announced as he clumsily spilled lemon squash and tiger sauce all over the "girlfriend" of a previously described expendable player, “I’ve still got to ante up!”

Meanwhile, half-way to the Sandwich Isles, the Commodore was dealing with an insurrection by a passenger aboard his ship – the self styled “Smartest Man in Lady Hamilton’s Idea Factory & Advisory Firm.”

Friday, July 4, 2008

Sandwich Islands Ho!

The Brigadier watched as Percy, his manservant, securely fastened the last piece of baggage to the coach. "You're sure of your information, are you?" asked the Brigadier's staltwart friend and confidant Lord Turnips. "For the last time, Turnips, I'm certain of it. We must go to the Sandwich Islands."

"Ambrose, how certain are you that this contraption you've invented will work?" replied the still uncertain Turnips.

"The Temporal Confluence Detector will work, have no fear of that, friend. And it's telling us that a confluence of temporal activity will soon take place in the Sandwich Islands. And that could only mean one thing. Marzipan. Clearly, she never ended up in 7th century BC China, so this is now our only lead. It's either her or someone else who has access to time travel technology."

"What about Nemo? He's pretty clever, you know" asked Lord Turnips.

"That is indeed a possibility. But even if it is Nemo, as unpredictable as he is, I'm certain we could convince him to help us. He has an ax to grind with Marzipan too, you know. They didn't exactly part on the best of company."

Turnips chuckled, "That's an understatement to be sure."

The Brigadier got into the coach, "Well, it's settled them, climb aboard dear friend. First stop Portsmouth, then Sandwich Islands Ho!"