Jedi Darcy and the mystery of the Navaho elves

[Benbow]

Norman St John Stevas, who had been Head Boy some years previously. St John Stevas was known for the way in which he misused his fags and Flashpots regarded him as being a hero. Indeed, the role of Head Boy was to give

[Crusoe]

the security guard a Mickey Finn while the gang cracked the safe, so I knew that messing with Flashpots was messing with fire, an out of control forest fire that needs to be fought with fire fighting fire. That was why you had to play hardball with Flashpots but you had to take it softly, softly.

I was considering my next move when in walks this dame. It was the panto season and they were all in town. I could see, immediately, that this was one hot dame, so I suggested she got off the radiator: it would stop him catching piles, too. I could see that this was a dame with History. English and Music, as well, when Mrs Butt-Oxe was away.

“You Pickens?” she asked.

“I don’t see any other P.I.s around here.” I coolly replied.

“I never ate them!” she said

“Sorry?”

“Oh nothing,” she replied, rather too quickly for my liking, “anyway, where was I?”

“You wanted Slim Pickens, Private Eye.”

“that’s right,” she said. “The thing is, Mr Pickens…












”have you got a light, Mac?”
“No, but I’ve got a dark brown overcoat”.

[Benbow]

my son is a pupil at St. Onan's, just down the road. I'm worried about him. Every week I send him a ten-shilling postal order and it seems that he's being forced to give it to some beastly sixth-former who insists that, not only does he give him his money, but that he performs

[Nurse Duckett]

La Marseillaise. This song had such poignant memories for Ursula that whenever she heard it, in old films like Casablanca, she would somehow move into another realm, inside her heart and inside her mind. The rest of the universe would simply cease to exist for pining Ursula as she silently sang in French "......Aux Armes, Citoyens!" and remembered those strong firm arms which had only so recently embraced her to his [/color]

[Benbow]

mother's dismay. "What in the name of jolly hockeysticks are you doing with matron?"
"Oh, hello mater," said Carruthers, "the old girl managed to get a piece of pork wedged in her windpipe and I was just...

[Alain Fournier]

remembering:

Comme nous étions persuadées, tous deux, que le bonheur était proche, et qu’il allait suffir de se mettre en route pour l’atteindre.

Dieu, que c'est triste

he said,

[Benbow]

spotting Wilkins peeping over the edge of the chest of drawers, behind which he had been hiding.
"I say Carruthers," said Wilkins, "You've been bally well practising your French. Has Madamoiselle Pooque being giving you some extra-curricular instruction?"
"Absolutely," said Carruthers, "She's a strict disciplinarian, but says if I keep practising I will become a cunning linguist."
Suddenly...

[Pooka]

Mlle. Pooque appeared and said, "Merci, mes amis. Je suis tres flatté que vous avez m'invité ici. Mais, je ne sais pas l'histoire. Il ne peut pas faire de sens, et il pourrait déranger le scénario, mais je viendrai plus souvent... seulement pour vous."

And with that, she went off to practice her French linguistics, arrange her chest of drawers, and beckon the help of none-other-than...

[Benbow]

the headmaster himself, Dr Clamworthy, or 'Old Clammy' as he was known to the pupils.
"Now Wilkins," he said fiercely, "I've had reports of your wanting to steal apples from my garden. This is very serious boy. Come to my study after prep."
Wilkins face flushed, he knew that the head would not hesitate to bend him over his desk and administer correction with his cane.
"Cheer up, old chap" said Carruthers, "Maybe if you tell Old Clammy that

[Nurse Duckett]

the French Mistress is arranging her drawers he'll forget all about it"

Ursula sighed. Her lover was a fit, virile man who could talk in fluent Gerundive with a Pluperfect accent while running towards her, burying his lips in her soft neck and then catching her as she swooned to the grass, as she always did. She nearly swooned now as her eyes gazed into the distance, seeing [/color]

[Benbow]

Mr Prendergast, the games master, striding manfully across the rugger pitch.
"Good morning, ma'am," he called jovially, "might I be of assistance?"
"Oh, hello," said Ursula, "I've heard so much about the abilities of your lads, would you care to

[Pooka]

join me for some tea?"

They both sat down, and Mr. Prendergast began to talk about his lads. He'd only gotten so far, when suddenly, Ursula...

[Nurse Duckett]

who had been pouring tea, gasped.

Her mind had gone winging back to the last time she poured tea for a man and she gazed at Mr. Prendergast with a dreamy look on her beautiful face, imagining that he, Prenders, was not the schoolmaster who sat there stunned before her, but her ardent lover.

Prenders was bemused and amused to see this, and shifting about on his striped deckchair, said [/color]

[Crusoe]

“Goddamnit! Pickens!”

“What’s the matter?” I asked. “Looks like you’ve seen a ghost.”

“But,” he stumbled, “but you’re..”

“Dead? I’m sorry, ‘Fingers’, detectives are like cats: nine lives.”

“Mr. Prendergast!” Ursula exclaimed.

“So,” I said, “Prendergast’s what you’re calling yourself, these days, is it, ‘Fingers’, well, I’ve got to admire your style. And who’s the pretty young filly?”

“Ursula,” she swooned.

“You’re a sweet girl,” I said, “but these are big boys games that you don’t want to get involved with. Take it from me, doll, ‘Fingers’ Molloy: your Mr Prendergast is trouble. Trouble with a capital ‘T’. And a capital ‘rubble’.”

The dame swooned again and when I was helping her to a slug of whiskey to revive her, Molloy, or Prendergast as he seemed to be calling himself, took his chance to make a run for it.

“That’s it, ‘Fingers’,” I called after him, “run. You can run but you can’t hide.”

He turned round and…

[Pooka]

there, standing behind him, was a ghost, the Ghost of Christmas Past. In a serious but shaky voice, he stated: "I am Yves St. Magoo, the Ghost of Christmas Past. Your past. Come with me - we have many a road to travel together." Magoo took Molloy by the hand, and hesitantly, he obliged.

The two vanished into thin air, and in an instant, Molloy found himself in a rather familiar scene. It was the playground where he'd spent hours upon hours as a child. And there, sitting on the park bench, was a young girl.

"Ursula, is that you?" Molloy asked. ...