A Delicious Evening

Lord Woodpecker-Smythe, Lord Turnips, and the Admiral were gathered around the Admiral's table and set down to a delightful meal prepared by Cash, Vardaman and Binky the hyper-intelligent (although-not quite-human smart) Monkey. Tonight's board of fare was Almond Boneless Chicken, a specialty of Lord Turnips' Estate and one that the Cash/Vardaman/Binky triumvirate could passably copy from Lord Turnip's scribbled recipe.

Turnips was extremely enthusiastic about the meal which reminded him of his home and hearth. Admiral Rossoroni and Lord Woodpecker-Smythe humored him. The meal, although quite filling, was naught more than crispy fried chicken breast, some sauce, and white rice: fairly pedestrian for their tastes. They even supressed an argument over the choice of wine in deference to Lord Turnip's blue mood.

Lord Turnips turned to his associates. "My good companions as you know I have a strange sense that I've been blacking out and committing horrible crimes. I can't help but think that these questionable sackings and pillagings that we have been witnessing lately have been somehow our responsibility in some way."

Admiral Rossoroni gave Lord Woodpecker-Smythe a quick look but was unable to stop him from blurting out in an uncharacteristically childish taunt. "DUH! Where have you been? The Admiral brainwashed you so you could do his dirty work you daft old agronimist and minister of state."

Admiral Rossoroni kicked Woody under the table. Woody realized his mistake. "Um, I mean, yes it is odd how so many castles, ports, temples, wizard keepes, hobbitons, and rabbit warrens have been razed recently. "

The Admiral pulled out his gold pocket chronometer and dangled it in front of Lord Turnips. "Turnips, I need your attention. I want you to keep your eyes on this until I count to ten. When I reach ten I want you to forget everything Woody has told you and I want you to signify that you have done so by whistling."

The Admiral commenced his count and at the conclusion Lord Turnips sat silent, a blank look on his face. Admiral Rossoroni grew concerned at the silent impassive face of Lord Turnips. Had his hypnotic suggestion failed? Was this a cross-wiring? How many links had he programed? Those beautiful links were so numerous could he really trust the response he would get? Lord Turnips was an enigma. He was bright but often daft. Not always quick on the uptake but the reprogrammed version had a hell of an uppercut and was skillful with the blade and knew a number of 10th level cleric spells.

"Am I talking to Hannon now?" he asked.

At that Turnips/Hannon got up out of the chair and began crowing like a rooster.

"Cocka Doodle Doo!" (or something similar)

Lord Woodpecker-Smythe exclaimed: "Good Lord! Now you've done it Rossoroni. What did you do to him now?"

Admiral Rossoroni called for Vardaman. "Bring me the black bag located on the trunk in my quarters immediately."

"Brwawk" Chirped Turnips/Hannon.