Thursday, August 31, 2006
'Can't you just quit your job and settle down?' Michael asked plaintively for the several hundreth times. 'I've got enough dough for the both of us, and we could travel togther if that's what you want out of life.'
'You know my answer, Mike,' she laughed softly. 'I think you're sweet, but I'm not done with life as a bachelor girl.'
'Your father thinks so,' Rake held her closer, 'your mother thinks so, and I think so. So, what exactly is the problem?'
'The problem, Michael,' she sighed, leaning back in his arms, 'is that I don't think so. Michael, I like you - a lot. But I don't like you enough to give up everything and become a housewife.'
A page approached the dancing couple, manner a little nervous. Ms. Madison saw him over Rake's shoulder and siezed her chance.
'What's up?' she asked, eyes wide.
'You're wanted on the telephone, Miss,' the page smiled. 'Bloke says you'll know who it is.'
'Got to go!' Ms. Madison ran for the desk, snatching up the receiver, she answered promptly.
'I hope that I am not interrupting you,' the voice of the Green Man came down the 'phone. 'But even if I am, you must leave it. Make your way to Heathrow at once. Your bags will be sent on after you. You are to take the eleven o'clock flight to Cairo. Your orders will be given you at the Palace Hotel. The Disturber is planning something huge.'
Ms. Madison just had time to grab her wrap before leaving.
The Green Man handed Ms. Madison a jemmy and screwdriver.
'Go over to the rocket and start smashing things, Madison,' he instructed the blonde. 'I'll start work on the door.' He knelt, looking for the door controls, while Ms. Madison started hitting the engines and casing of the lower part of the rocket with all her might.
'It's no use!' she cried out, 'all I've done is dent the casing! Can't we run?'
'You can't outrun a rocket blast!' the Green Man shouted back, as he prised the cover from the access panel. 'Our only hope is to close this door!'
Ms. Madison felt the growing heat of the rocket engines. Dropping the jemmy, she ran for the door, kneeling by the figure of the Green Man. He didn't even look up. She didn't speak, despite the fear that gnawed at her innards.
'Start running, Madison,' the Green Man spoke at last.
'Why?' she demanded. 'You said...?'
'I know what I said.' The Green Man laughed. 'But things have changed. In a moment, I'll connect the two wires that control these doors. They'll close.'
'Then surely we're safe?' the blonde was confused.
'This tunnel,' the Green Man explained, is the only outlet for the blast of the rocket engines. Without it, all that heat will have no-where to go. With the casing weakened by your efforts with the jemmy, the liquid fuel in the rocket should ignite on the launch-pad. There'll be a terrific explosion. Now!'
He touched the two wires together, and the great doors slid shut once more. A second action caused the circuits to burn out, before the Green Man joined Ms. Madison in retreating down the tunnels. A great roar filled the air, followed by a series of dull thumps that threw Ms. Madison to the ground. Pulled to her feet, she resumed her flight. Yet the doors did not give. When the two intrepid crime-fighters spilled out into the fresh air, they could smell fire. looking up, the girl saw that the fortress was ablaze from end to end.
On the flight to Rome, the Green Man explained events to Ms. Madison.
'The missile exploded on the launch pad, as I'd predicted. In order to get to Washington, it had to have a tremendously powerful rocket engine. The explosion had to find a way out.' The Green Man shook his head. 'I assumed that would be the doors.'
'But there was a blast-proof glass screen in the control room...' Ms. Madison blanched.
'It must have given way,' the Green Man nodded. 'They couldn't identify the bodies, but all the people are accounted for. Including Raoul.'
'Which goes to show,' Ms. Madison smiled, 'that you can't play with fire without getting burned.'
'And no-one,' the Green Man chuckled, 'can escape the vengeance of the Green Man.'
Wednesday, August 30, 2006
'Well?' Raoul demanded.
'He won't do it!' she screamed, trembling from head to toe tears sprang, unbidden, to her blue eyes. 'He wants to see Washington destroyed!'
'Then tomorrow,' the Discomfiter chuckled wickedly, 'millions of people are going to die!!'
'For pity's sake!' Ms. Madison begged, 'let me call someone else!'
'So you can contact your friend in green?' the Discomfiter shook his head. 'No, Ms. Madison. Tomorrow, Washington DC will be erased from the map. And the next demand I make will be taken very seriously. Take her away!' He dismissed her with a wave of the hand.
Protesting, Ms. Madison was dragged away and thrown into her cell. There was nothing she could do save get down on her knees, clasp her hands and prayed as she had never prayed before, asking for just a sign. She fell asleep in this position. When she awoke, the first rays of the sun were filtering into her cell. She groaned, her knees and back hurting.
'Well,' a familiar voice broke in on her reverie. 'I never had you pegged for a devout person, Madison.'
There, framed by the open door of her cell, was the Green Man. In a moment, she was in his arms, sobbing gratefully.
'He's got a bomb!' she told him at last. 'He's going to destroy Washington!'
'With me,' the Green Man took her hand, leading his secretary. Ducking through a ventilation grille, he led Ms. Madison into to infrastructure of the building. At last they could stand once more, in a long concrete tunnel. They followed the tunel upwards, until they came to a large steel door.
While the Green Man saw to the door, Ms. Madison looked around. The tunnel had small scorch marks on the walls, as if someone had been using a blow-torch on it.
Then it hit her. But too late. At the same time the great steel door opened, revealing the base of the missile. Ms. Madison screamed. They were in the tunnel where the blast from the missile exhaust would be channeled. As she heard the humm of the rocket engines she could not help but scream...
Tuesday, August 29, 2006
'So...' he chuckled, looking down at the blonde's inadequately-clad form. 'You are at my mercy once more, Ms. Madison.'
'Know what,' Ms. Madison shot him a radiant smile, 'I didn't think you could be any uglier, but I was wrong.'
His hand cracked across Ms. Madison's face, as the evil man glowered at Ms. Madison. Two of his thugs pulled the blonde to her feet and dragged her into the corridor. The Discomfiter led the way into the control bunker at the heart of his fortress.
'Don't expect your pal in green to help you out this time,' Raoul laughed wickedly, 'this fortress is impregnable, and shielded against radiation.'
The mention of radiation caused the pretty blonde to start. Something in the Discomfiter's voice told her that this was not simply a figure of speech. Taking a step forward, she saw, in a huge pit in the centre of the control room, a vast rocket, surrounded by a blast-proof screen.
'That's right!' the Discomfiter laughed, seeing Ms. Madison's concern. 'You do well to fear me. That is a nuclear missle capable of hitting Washington. If my demands are not met within twenty-four hours, the capital of the United States of American will be nothing but radioactive dust! And you will contact the American Government to tell them this!'
With a heavy hear, Ms. Madison picked up the 'phone and called the White House. Recognised as the Green Man's secretary, she was able to tell the President that if Raoul was not paid one billion dollars, Washington would be destroyed.
The President, at his ranch in Texas, replied that he would call an emergency session of Congress the next day.
'But, Mr. President,' the lovely blonde protested, 'in twenty-four hours Washington will be destroyed!'
'Precisely,' the President laughed. 'And Congress will be there too. Lots of Democrats are going to die!'
Ms. Madison let out a little gasp of shock. If the Green Man didn't come through, then it seemed nothing could save Washington!
The Green Man wears a dark green trenchcoat, green hat, mask, scarf and boots in tribute to his namesake, the Green Man.
Monday, August 28, 2006
In his insane quest for vengeance on all humanity, Monty Bristow, alias 'the Disturber' has struck at that most acrosanct of institutions, the Church. The world awaits with fear the next attack of the Disturber upon society. Where will Monty Bristow strike next, and can the Green Man stop him before the world is plunged into anarchy?
The Green Man marshalled his forces for an assault on the Discomfiter's European base. Forced to give up his website, the Discmofiter ended his internet reign of terror by slandering John W. Loftus, in the hope that the Green Man would go after him instead, or at least be deflected from the trail.
But is wasn't to be. Ms. Madison had picked up the trail of the Discomfiter and, passing on the information to the Green Man, she booked a flight to Naples and a room in a five-star hotel overlooking the Bey (The Bey of Kordasia, a particularly handsome Arab potentate was staying in Naples at the time). However, as she boarded the 'plane, Ms. Madison became aware that something was wrong. She was the only passenger, apart from an arthritic mule. As she turned to make for the door, she heard the hissing of gas escaping the ventilators. Her head span, and she fell forward in a dead faint...
Sunday, August 27, 2006
The United Airlines Methodist Church, aircraft 'Meth537' flew this route overnight from Canberra, stopping several times for fuel, and to take on passengers. At 8:42 Pacific Standard time, the pastor and deacons retreat to pray and prepare for the service in business class. The result is that all passengers in business class (including the reporter) are woken up. Some straggle into economy class, while others try to sleep on. At quarter to ten local time, everyone is woken up, and handed hymbooks, as the service begins.
The service opened with 'Come let us join our friends above...' After which the Word of God was opened, the reading for the day being 'Jesus before Pilate'. This was follwed by 'Arise, my soul, arise'.
The prayers, delivered while the 'plane passed through turbulence, were particularly urgent. Specila prayers were offered for the towns over which we were passing.
The hymn 'Jesus who lived above the sky,' was sung with gusto, before the preaching of a sermon by Captain Lemuel Gulliver, former sailor and member of the seaman's mission to Lilliput. His there was 'Jesus the pilot of our souls', and nautical metaphors mixed freely with the aerial ones preferred by the denomination. At the end of the sermon, an invitation was given, and the Choir sang 'Come O thou traveller unknown'.
Futher prayers and exhortations followed until the church landed at Buffalo to the strains of 'Lo He comes with clouds descending.'
Saturday, August 26, 2006
Cocker Spaniel Toots has been caught gorging herself on vegetables out of her owner's garden. She browses on lettuce and dug up and ate every carrot in the vegetable patch.
That's right. A predominantly vegetarian dog!
Monty Bristow declared that this proved the pre-fallen nature of dogs. Although this would have brought howls of anger from the evolutionist establishment, there was silence, and seven Scientific journals published his foundings. Mostly out of fear of the supervillain's flying spaghetti monster.
"Look, mate, it wasn't me fixed me on, was it?" in a cockney accent.
O. Bucky replied that he wasn't to blame either, and while he was doing so, the Green Man sloshed him on the jaw, before smashing the loose bionic arm. O. Bucky tried to hit the Green Man again, only to impale a vast computer bank. The Deconvert screamed, as thousands of volts of electricity coursed through his body. The Green Man left, knowing that the smell of burning assassin clings to the clothing. He was glad, for the fortress exploded moments later.
The demise of O. Buck was announced on the Discomfiter's site by one of the Green Man's allies. The Discomfiter began to quake with feat, circling the wagons as the Green Man began to close in. He knew the days of his power were over.... In an attempt to disguise himself, the Discomfiter had a hapless Mexican Peasant surgically altered to resemble him, while he was given plastic surgery to make him appear a harmless old man.
Things went a bit wrong, however, and Raoul ended up looking like Ming the Merciless.
Friday, August 25, 2006
Yesterday, in a secular fury, Harris Williams, a disciple of Bobby Henderson, approached the office of Monty Bristow, alias the Disturber, about his proposal to endow a Chair of Inteligent design. He wrote to Mr. Bristow in the vein of Mr. Henderson's 'Flying Spaghetti Monster' parody, demanding that Mr. Bristow also endow a Chair of FSM-ism.
When Monty Bristow granted him an interview, no-one was more surprised than Harris Williams. Still, filled with confidence in his abilities, this atheist went in to see Monty Bristow. As he entered the huge room, Monty Bristow rose to greet him.
"Why, Mr. Williams," the super-villain smiled. "So, you believe in a Flying Spaghetti Monster, do you?"
Harris decided to press the parody and agreed with Bristow. He declared his belief that everything was created by a Flying Spaghetti Monster, although no-one had ever seen it, and it could pass through matter.
"So," Bristow smiled, voice l0w. "No-one has ever seen a Flying Spaghetti Monster, have they?"
Williams' eyes opened in fear, as a huge trap-door in the floor opened. Something huge and formless rose from the pit beneath. Two eyes on stalks looked straight at Mr. Williams, while huge, slimy tentacles waved. The smell of Italian food filled the air.
"No... no!" the atheist blanched. "It cannot be! You don't exist!"
Monty Bristow laughed still more loudly.
"Oh, it exists, Mr. Williams!" he cried in unholy triumph, "it exists! Believe in it, believe in the terror of the Disturber!"
Closer and closer came the ghastly thing.
"NO!" Williams screamed in terror. "I don't believe in you! It was a joke!"
"Believe or disbelieve," Bristow laughed. "This flying spaghetti monster is real!" His laughter became louder, madder. "But this flying spaghetti monster created nothing! I, Monty Bristow, created it! And I control it!
Williams tried to run, but found himself rooted to the spot.
"It cannot create, only destroy!" Monty Bristow gestured to the quivering creature. "Kill him, my pretty!"
The great slimy beast enveloped the screaming, immoblised Williams.
Despite Ms. Madison's wishes, the Green Man decided to go in alone. Moving between the trees that surrounded the old fort at twilight (the rest of the time they moved to the road to sun themselves), he overpowered the guards, slipping in through an open window.
There, watching a vast mechanical process, was none other than Raoul himself, surrounded by new goons, one of whom looked a little nibbled. Smiling, the Green Man listened to the panicked words of the Discomfiter. His men assured him that, in the fortress, he was safe. And so, with a laugh, the Green Man dropped from the rafters, knocking two of the goons out by smashing their heads together.
"You can't win!" Raoul laughed.
"No, Raoul," the Green Man spoke softly, his voice dripping with menace. "It is you that cannot win, you that are finished. Did Deconvert see you today?"
"Maybe," Raoul chuckled, "you think he is 'armless?"
A trapdoor opened below Raoul, who dropped into the darkness. Before the Green Man could follow, a vast, sharpened blade swung towards his head. Ducking it, the Green Man turned, to see O. Bucky Ackenbola, now equipped with two shiny bionic arms, a murderous rage in his eyes...
Thursday, August 24, 2006
There is consternation in the academic world today, with the news that super-villain and multi-millionaire businessman Monty Bristow is to endow a Chair in Intelligent Design Biology at Oxbridge College (formerly Pudding Norton Polytechnic). Professor for promoting Public Confusion about the Sciencies at the University, Richard Doorhinge, declared:
"This is ridiculous, an abuse of the name scientist unequalled since I seduced three blonde biology students and claimed it was an experiment. Thse people should be driven from from the universities. Remember, it was these people who persecuted Gallileo."
Dr. Pinkie, speaking from behind bars at a secure physciatric unit described Intelliegent Design as: "Almost as insane as me!" He tried to say more, only the guards mistook it for an attempted escape and stunned him with tazers.
Mr. Bristow, alias 'The Disturber', asked to explain his actions laughed manically, declaring:
"The only purpose of the Disturber is to break the consensus, to tear apart the bonds of convention that hold society together! I will tear apart debate in the University! Hahahaha!"
Having said his piece, Monty Bristow left to open another of his projects, the first Atheist school in Britain.
"You have filled the cup of vengeance, Deconvert." The Green Man took a step closer to the hapless hitman.
O. Bucky lunged at the Green Man with his sharpened girder. Side-stepping, the Green Man took a firm hold on the girder with one gloved hand, twisting it. With a cry of pain, the hitman dropped his girder. A heavy fist smashed into his jaw, as the Green Man took a step forward.
"You can't win, Green Man," Deconvert snarled, wiping bloood from his jaw. "One day, we'll get your girl! She cannot avoid our attentions!"
"Hey!" Ms. Madison piped up, outraged. "I am not 'his girl!' I'm his secretary." She sounded hurt, pouting slightly.
"Exactly!" the Green Man's fist slammed into O. Bucky's jaw with the force of an express train.
Deconvert staggered back, his unibrow fluttering to the ground. Ms. Madison gasped, recognising the waiter from the night before. Deconvert laughed mockingly, his hand going inside his jacket. Before he could draw whatever he had from under his jacket, the Green Man had socked him of the jaw again, knocking the man to the floor. Falling on his sharpened girder, O. Bucky managed to cut off both his arms. Weeping like a baby, he ran from the room. A grateful Ms. Madison gravitated to the Green Man's left shoulder.
"Excellent!" a female laughed from somewhere, clapping her hands, "superb!"
A girl in a black evening gown walked into the room. Still laughing, she sat on the bed.
"Now," she purred. "I come from the Discomfiter..."
Ms. Madison held the Green Man's arm closer.
Wednesday, August 23, 2006
You cannot escape the vengeance of the Green Man.
Raoul's hitman, 'A Deconvert' followed close behind. In a desperate attempt to foil the Green Man, he struck out at Green Man's agents. An organ grinder was attacked with a sharpened pogo-stick by the evil and immoral hitman. He was only just able to escape.
Ms. Madison was in danger once more, as the most visible of the Green Man's agents. Her lovely form and face were recognised by one of Raoul's spies, and 'A Deconvert' moved in. Opening the door to a tall man in a moustache, she realised too late that one of the Discomfiter's men had tracked her down. O. Bucky Ackenbola laughed as he closed in on her, drawing a sharpened steel girder from under his cape. Ms. Madison tried to flee, but he blocked the way. All the lovely, spirited blonde could do was scream...
Monty Bristow, alias The Disturber, announced today the first shocking secret in his inexplicable campaign of revenge against society. His first blow was the production of conclusive proof that there was more than one gunman in Dallas in November 1963. There were in fact four men on the grassy knoll, one mafia hitman, a CIA gunman, a disgruntled Cuban exile and a member of the Ku Klux Klan. Accordingly, every conspiracy theory about the assassination was correct.
The various groups believing these theories have banded together to bring down the US Government only to realise that everyone involved in the plot is either dead or retired. Freed from having to waste time propagating this theory, hundreds of people begin to ask serious questions about government, or kill themselves as they have nothing better to do. As Bristow threatens to make even more revelations, Scotland Yard are at a loss to track him down.
He could be anywhere, disturbing the settled order of things, persuading Michael Moore not to make any more films, Bill Clinton to tell everything about his Presidency, Tony Blair to tell the truth once in a while, the leaders of the Arab nations to stop blaming Israel and the West for everything.
Who knows where the Disturber will strike next?
Yesterday, at St. Constantius Church Hall, Lesser Pudding, the new Christian Political organisation, the British Union of Christian Groups (BUG), held its opening press conference. Present were the group's committee: The Rev. Harold Woodshed (Great Snoring); Sir Newton Newton-Newton, former pencil-carrier to the Duke of Edinburgh; the Rev. Uther Pencildragon. The chairman was Monty Bristow (come again, wasn't he chairman for the atheists, too?), rich man and the group's main backer (this is the same man!). The Rev. Harold Woodshed welcomed the gentlemen of the press:
Woodshed: Welcome, ladies and gentlemen of the press. It's so lovely to see you all here today. I hope you'll bear with us today before the ladies bring in the cakes.
Sir Newton (smiling): And there are some very nice cakes there.
Woodshed: Well, we're tired (yawns) of the way Christianity is ignored in this country. The British Union of Christian Groups intends to make a contribution, in a very real sense, to British politics.
Press: Will you be running candidates at the next election?
Woodshed: Goodness me, no! We'll leave that to the politicians. They're doing a really difficult job and they need our support.
Press #2: Will you be issuing voter guides, then?
Sir Newton: Why would voters need guiding. They're not stupid, you know. Why, I remember saying to Phillip...
Woodshed: If we issued voter guides, that might upset politicians who are, as I said, doing a very difficult job under a great deal of pressure. Pickets and angry letters do not help the image of Christianity...
Sir Newton (cupping his ear): What's that about cricket? Dashed bad show with that umpire, don't you know...
Press: So what will you do?
Pencildragon: Write letters. Lots of letters, disappointed letters which say we love the politicians but are disappointed with them. And we'll say angry things about them to our wives and friends.
Press #2: Won't your followers be called BUG-ers, which sounds a bit rude?
Press: Mr. Chairman, didn't you chair the atheists' meeting in the Longe Legges yesterday?
Bristow: Yes, but don't tell my wife I was in there.
Press: How can you back both groups?
Bristow (laughing): Hahaha! For I, Monty Bristow, will have my revenge! I am the Disturber! I shall pit one group in society against another. Soon there will be no society, only the war of all on all! I, Monty Bristow will have my revenge on the society that rejected me! (Sinks through the stage, laughing)
Sir Newton (who has fallen asleep): What?
Woodshed: While it seems that Monty Bristow is in reality a cartoonish super-villain, we must reach out to cartoonish super-villains. In a very real sense, the cartoonish super-villain is our neighbour... (drones on until all slumber, before falling alseep himself).
Hoisting the flag of Edward Teach, a powerful boat went out to meet the shipment, manned by volunteers, as well as the Green Man's agents of vengeance. The boat was stopped five miles off the Florida coast and sunk with all hands, causing the temperature of the Discomfiter and his foul allies to rise. His agent in Miami, code-name 'Antitheist' was taken prisoner and tortured with a blunt corkscrew, three quarts of butter and a Dachshund. He told all, before he was allowed to escape and tell the quaking Discomfiter of his fast-approaching fate.
Raoul realised that his time was running out...
Tuesday, August 22, 2006
Yesterday, at the Longe Legges Hotel, Pudding Norton, the British Atheists Together for Secularism (BATS), a new political association announced its formation. The press conference was addressed by Rodney Key, lecturer in philosophy and fashion at Great Snoring Community College; Dr. Sheddie Pinkie, research scientist in cosmetics; and Wallace Williams, journalist. Monty Bristow, rich man and main backer, chaired the conference:
Rodney Key: in protest at the increasing inluence of religion in politics, we are forming a new political association to campaign for atheist candidates at elections. This means that we can promote true moral ethics, rather than the false and evil ethics promoted by Christianity. For example, Calvin...
Dr. Pinkie (interrupting): What moral systems? Look, Rod, atheism has no foundation for moral absolutes. By freeing ourselves from moral absolutes, we are able to free men from the tyranny of laws.
Key: You can't say that!
Pinkie: Just did, chum. Look, I don't want some Puritan telling me who I can and can't have sex with. What right do you have to judge me?
Key: You left your wife when she was pregnant, forcing her to live off the dole while she brought up your children. According to the law...
Pinkie: The Law's a bore, Rod, and you know it. She could have aborted them. I should be able to have them killed. They're only cells. At least my first wife had the good grace to stand by the window when I pushed her out...
Key: No! You're evil!
Pinkie: Says who? I say what I've done is right. The sole good is my good. There is no will but my will, hahaha!
Wallace William: Moving on, our programme is that Theism is outmoded and should be replaced by a rational system of morals.
Pinkie: Pah! What morals? I make my own morals.
Key: No, morals must be decided by the majority.
Pinkie: I say the majority's wrong. The strong make their own morality...
(There is a fight, and Pinkie is bound, gagged and thrown into the back of a Police Car.)
Bristow: Can we have some questions now?
Silly little man: Is Dr. Pinkie sane?
Bristow: What's sane?
Man: You tell me? Are you?
(he is dragged out by burly stewards.)
At this point the press conference ended, as the Longe Legges, a notorious leg-show was raided by the Police. Tomorrow our special correspondent will be attending a meeting of the rival group, the British Union of Christian Groups (BUG).
Raoul, rising from his throne, yelled, 'kill them!' to his goons. The goons, expecting an easy kill, laughed and settled back to watch the bull-fight (also being Mexican), readying their guns in case the figure in Green should win.
The bull charged the Green Man, who nimply leapt aside, causing the Bull to smash into the supports of the balcony that the goons were standing on. While the bull gored the hapless goons, the Green Man untied Ms. Madison, and with one bound, they were free...
Cursing, the Discomfiter ordered the liquidation of any suriving goons and the Bull. That night, at Raoul's mansion, beef was on the menu. The Green Man, however, preferred a cold dinner.
Monday, August 21, 2006
Taking a private jet from Nassau to Mexico, the Green Man slipped over the Mexican border into the United States (along with several thousand Mexicans). It is easy to hide oneself among the thousands. The Green Man is only too good at it.
Meeting in the Hotel grounds, the Green Man and his agent discovered the agent that Raoul had smuggled into the hotel and who had altered the Discomfiter's organisation to Ms. Madison's presence and activity. Bound to a chair in the hotel basement, the wicked man was subjected to a third degree until he confessed. He had received his orders from a man over the 'phone. The trail seemed dead.
But the Green Man is not so easily defeated. His agent broke into a dozen apartments belonging to known criminals in a night. She found an address for an estate outside the city, and told the Green Man its whereabouts. At once, the Green Man hurried to the estate.
But the Discomfiter was aware that the Green Man was moving. In a fury, he bound Ms. Madison to a stake in the middle of the walled garden. Speaking to her from an upper window, Raoul told the struggling Ms. Madison that she was the tethered goat who would bring the Green Man out into the open. As he spoke, a great bull entered the garden, snorting and treading the ground. Despite herself, the blonde screamed...
Ms. Madison, resident at the Los Angeles Hilton, continued to monitor traffic on the Discomfiter website. After a brief time during which John W. Loftus was under suspicion as an American 'Mr. Big,' Ms. Madison resolved to take some time off from monitoring the site to re-acquaint herself with the real world. This was done by the pool with a large glass of fruit juice.
While crossing the hotel lobby, Ms. Madison was stopped by a gentleman who asked her to come with him. Indicating her attire, Ms. Madison politely refused, only to be threatened with a gun and ordered out. With no choice but to obey, she followed the man into a waiting limousine, which took her to a large house some miles from L.A. There, she was told that she was now a prisoner of Felipe Raoul. She stuck her tongue out at the men and spiritedly told them to go to Hades.
She was able to escape from the room where she was being held, using a table-leg as a cosh. Making her way, apparently unseen, to the sitting-room, she put through an urgent call to the Green Man in Nassau, informing him of her predicament and describing her setting.
No sooner had she put down the 'phone, however, than Raoul stepped out of the shadows, together with his gunmen. Laughing, he told Ms. Madison that she had been allowed to make the call in order to bait a trap for the Green Man. Two days from that point, she was to die.
Sunday, August 20, 2006
The service was due to begin at ten-thirty, but when the minister entered the pulpit, the congregation were still deep in conversation. Not even a few loud blasts on the organ would shut them up. The minister stood up in the pulpit and looked significantly at his watch. The entire congregation looked at their watches, shook them, then went on talking.
Slamming the Bible down on the lectern, the minister announced that the service would begin at once, or he'd keep the congregation behind afterwards. Someone blew a raspberry and was sent to sit in the corner. Order being restored somewhat, the first hymn was given out: 'Here is Love Vast as the Ocean.' After which the Bible was read, although the minister was stopped when he saw one of the congregation was reading from the ESV. An on-the-spot ecommunication was attempted, but the member refused to leave. This led to the minister refusing to preach until the man left. The man replied 'no, you leave!' pouted, folded his arms, and looked at the wall, muttering to himself. Two deacons picked him up and carried him out of the church.
The minister then delivered his children's talk, despite the fact that no children have attended the chapel in living memory, before giving out the second hymn, which was the same as the first. When the organist picked up on this, he was told that they would sing it to a different tune, which they duly did.
Prayers started with a curse being pronounced on all who were not at the church, and proceeded to name every heretical church. Every church known to the congregation was named, with the exception of one in King's Lynn they'd forgotten about, which was named at the end of the service. During these, someone placed a whoopee cushion on the pastor's seat. The Pastor walked out, giving out 'Here is Love' for the third time, this time to a tune which didn't fit the words, and an elder delivered the message, looking down as he spoke, so that it was inaudiable to anyone but him. The rest of the congregation went back to talking and, as far as I know, they are still talking. I left at three to attend the Cat-Baptists at Pudding Norton, after ascertaining there would be no baptismal service tonight.
Sir Richard Arcos.
Saturday, August 19, 2006
Julio Vega, alias O. Bucky Akenbola, alias A Deconvert, one of Raoul's key enforcers, posing as a copy boy, entered the United States to try and track down the agents of the Green Man. He made himself known by telling the Discomfiter site that he had deconverted. Ms. Madison put a call through to the Green Man's base is Nassau, informing him that a powerful henchman of the Discomfiter was in the United States. The Green Man alerted his other agents, in part to protect Ms. Madison, including a man posing as an organ grinder.
The Green Man issued strong warnings to the confederates of the Discomfiter, telling them that they could not escape the vengeance of the Green Man. As the agents of the Discomfiter suggested ways they might deal with the agents of the Green Man, so the Green Man threatened them with consequences a thousand times more devastating. You will know the truth, the Green Man declared, and the truth will make you hurt. One pretending deconvert asked, 'why couldn't God have given man the gift of fire?' The Green Man replied, The Green Man will give you the gift of pain.
But unknown to the Green Man, the agents of the Discomfiter were closer than he expected to the Los Angeles Hilton, and to Ms. Vivienne L. Madison.
Ms. Madison set up a twenty-four hour watch on the Discomfiter site with one of the hotel maids, who thought it was all a big joke.
The first hint that Raoul had was the following message on the Discomfiter site:
The drugs shipment will not leave Panama.
Frantic calls revealed that the ship had sunk on its way to Panama. Raoul realised that the Green Man was onto him. Introducing several new operatives, he sent out the word that the Green Man had to be stopped.
A top enforcer described on the site as 'A Deconvert' was hired to find the associates of the Green Man and so hold the Green Man to ransom.
Ms. Madison discovered that the blog was being run from the Pacific Coast of the United States. Calling the agents of the Green Man in the United States, she discovered the relationship between the first post and the drugs shipment. Calling the Green Man, Ms. Madison informed her employer that something was happening in America.
The Green Man instructed Ms. Madison to fly to Los Angeles right away, check into the L.A. Hilton, monitor traffic on the Discomfiter website and await further instructions. Ms. Madison packed up her pretties and made her way to Los Angeles, knowing that the Green Man would soon be coming to America.
In the meantime, the Green Man had left his first threat on the website, warning that: The Green Man will make his presence known.
Friday, August 18, 2006
Now the site has gone, ostensibly due to the threat of legal action from a former pastor and now atheist propagandist called John W. Loftus. A foul and libellous statement was made against him, leading him to act. In response, the Discomfiter declared he was suspending the site. Thus far the official story.
In reality, the man calling himself the Discomfiter was in reality the most monstrous and cunning villain! His real name was Felipe Raoul, and he had been running Cocaine out of Columbia for many years. After repeated failures of communication damaged his organisation, Raoul decided to use the internet. Using a public forum, he intended to send coded messages to his organisation in the United States. He settled on a site that would pretend to be attacking Christianity in order to generate the maximum traffic. As he himself had not attended a church from the age of ten, he was unable to make a very good argument. But that was enough. 'Deconversions' would mean shipments had arrived at the destination, while 'conversions' would mean emergencies. Assured that his foul deeds would remain secret, Raoul put up his first post, announcing the arrival of a shipment of cocaine worth seven million dollars. The cocaine was delivered, and was soon on the steets of America's cities.
So far, Raoul was laughing, unaware that his plans would attract the vengeance of the Green Man.
There are two hotels, just past the station, one a Las Vegas-style horror version of Great Zimbabwe. Appropriately this hotel contains a Casino. However, the doorman is dressed as an Ndebele warrior (inappropriate as the Ndebele, refugee Zulus who were running from King Shaka because they'd kept a herd of cows, looted and burned Great Zimbabwe almost as soon as they arrived in the Zambezi valley.
The other Hotel, the Victoria Falls Hotel, is an old-fashioned Victorian establishment, and the service was impeccable back in 1998. Sadly, with the clamp-down on foreign travel, the office of the Green Man now has to make do with a hotel in Livingstone, the Zambian side of the Falls.
Arthur Salesbury, mercenary, was staying at the Victoria Falls hotel in 1998, resting after his massacre of 1,000 men, women and children in the Democratic Republic of Congo. This news reached the ever-alert ears of the Green Man.
At the hotel, Salesbury met a charming young redhead. She resisted his crude attempts at seduction, and soon he found himself falling truly in love, for the first time in his life. They took long walks by the Falls. She, in shorts and tee-shirt, stood and let him snap her in front of the Falls. She laughed with him, dined with him, kissed him, but when he suggested going further cut him off with a lively giggle. Fascinated, he continued his pursuit of her, even agreeing to leave his pistol in his room when they went for their long walks, as she said it dug into her when they cuddled.
One day, they drove to a lonely spot by the Zambezi, upstream from the Falls. There, after a long walk from the car, the Green Man overpowered Salesbury, helped by the redhead. He begged her to help, to consider his love for her. She laughed in his face and told him that he had not heeded the cries and begging of innocents. Salesbury was bound, and flung into the river. A good swimmer, he tried to make it to the other side, despite his bonds. He was, he thought, too far upstream to go over the Falls.
And he was right. But that far upstream, the crocodiles can also survive. The Green Man and the redhead watched while the crocodiles acted as mute agents of vengeance.
They found his arm a month later. The rest of him has never been recovered.
Seven times this house has been used by the Green Man. In the space that was once the grand saloon, the Green Man sentenced two drug-runners to death, while a man who was suspected of having got away with murder was found hanged on one of the trees that surround the ghostly ruins of this house.
Somewhere, near to every town, every city in Europe, there is a house like this one. Deserted, rotting. Somewhere for the Green Man to mete out the punishment to the wicked.
The way of the Green Man is a lonely way. The Green Man has been informed that he is the only blogger who visits vengeance on the wicked. That shows how necessary the Green Man is.
Thursday, August 17, 2006
Seven men have been buried here in the last decade. None by clergymen. Every one by the associates of the Green Man.
The Green Man does not give up. If you are under the vengeance of the Green Man, here is the message:
'I'll dog your every move, I'll follow you into your grave if I have to, I'll write my name on your tombstone.'
The Green man is ably assisted by a secretarial staff of two, Ms. Vivienne L. Madison, who does the Green Man's mysterious business out of hotel rooms the world over, and a redhead who can burgle any place on earth.
In all but the most extreme emergencies, the Green Man, and only the Green Man will deal out vengeance. But, if needs be, one of the Green Man's agents of vengeance will destroy the evildoer, before reporting back to the ever-shifting office of the Green Man.
The Green Man will make his presence known.
The Green Man does not fail.
The drugs shipment burned with the ship, before both slid to the bottom of the ocean.
One man was found later, horribly beaten.
You cannot escape the vengeance of the Green Man.
Wednesday, August 16, 2006
Mr. Cledwyn denied all knowledge, saying he thought the house was deserted, awaiting repair. The Green Man got into the Estate Office of Cledwyn Properties and discovered the truth.
Three weeks later, Mr. Cledwyn's bodyguard wandered into Ruabon, burns to eighty percent of his body. He lived on for another month somehow, then died. Investigating, the North Wales Police searched Lowell House. They found Mr. Cledwyn there. What was left of him. Someone had tied him to the spit in the Great Kitchen and roasted him. Alive.
Evildoers cannot escape the vengeance of the Green Man.