Andrew Moore's Blog, page 135

History Corner

Did you know that people didn't always have cameras everywhere and DNA testing or even fingerprinting? That's why all the good mysteries are set in the past.

The Sixth Column

General Winsdel slammed his fist on the desk. "If only we could discover how those blasted orcs are receiving supplies! I inspected our blockade personally just last week. Just put that there if you don't mind." He tapped the table to indicate to the servant, who of course was a foreigner, where he wanted his biscuits.
"It's the most puzzling problem we face, certainly. We've penned them in, and I hardly think anyone but an orc would want to help another orc. And yet . . ." Marshal Carrow leaned back in his chair and closed his eyes. "They should be stuck and out of luck. Hm. Stuck, luck, orc. I have it!" He jerked up and startled General Winsdel and the servant both. "Winsdel! What's 'orc' spelled backwards?"
"Cro."
"Now shift it all a letter to the left!"
"What do you mean? Oh, I see. Roc!"
"Rocs are nothing but air orcs! They're getting the supplies through." The marshal slouched. "No, no, that can't be it."
"What's wrong? I thought you really had it there."
"Don't you see? That makes sense in our language, but not in theirs."
"Don't be a, er, what I mean to say is, a man of your experience and knowledge of the world surely knows there's only one language. Foreigners are all just pretending. It's a bit of a joke to them."
"You think so?" Marshal Carrow pondered the matter as he accepted the tea the servant brought in, and General Winsdel did the same. "Now if that's true, our next step has to be . . . has to . . . Winsdel, I suddenly feel . . ."
Both men collapsed, senseless. The servant shook his head. "You ought to have kept your considerable intellects focused on the war, gentlemen." He snapped his fingers to summon a crew of burly foreigners who lifted the two officers and hustled them out of the building. What will become of our heroes?
Finis

Getting in on the Ground Floor

Everybody's going to want disco fantasy and disco science fiction pretty soon, so start writing.

Addendest

"It's just terrible! The doors of Slytherin house turned into brick walls! Water came out of nowhere! Three hundred Slytherin students, all trapped and drowned!"
"Horrible. Were their wills all found?"
"Er, yes, they were. They left everything to you for some reason."
"How curious," said Headmaster Snalbus Dramblebam.

Addender

Maybe you don't want to include Slytherin dorms in your sandbox mode wizard school, but when you see how much money Slytherin alumni give you, your morals will be tested.

Addendum

Or Theme Hospital but Harry Potter. It doesn't matter. People want to scroll around and see Harry Potter junk going on. People with money.

An Unanswerable Question

If people like money so much, where's The Sims but Harry Potter?

A Nostalgic Interlude

Remember when people had trouble remembering to write the new year on their checks?

Challenge of the Gentleman Thief

Winter! The streets of Priscarbs were covered in snow and rumors. Would the police be humiliated again, or would the gentleman thief give them a break for once? Place your bets, for the message had been sent.
"Falgunus, better pass on the flutter this year."
"Sir?"
"I didn't set this up to get myself thrown out on my ear for inexusable, not to say risible, misuse of department resources." "I had wondered, sir."
"Glad to hear it."
Temborin Tower looked over the city and dared anyone to find a finer clock than the mechanism Prince Salfuneus had installed eight years earlier. The city looked back and wondered if that infamous thief would dare to strike again. Not once and not thrice had the mysterious malefactor stolen the priceless old year, aged to perfection, and replaced it with a worthless new one. No, countless incidents, more than anyone could remember, and the reputation of the police fell every time till it could hardly go lower. Houses in Priscarbs had only so many basements.
At last, it seemed the police had thrown the whole thing up. Temborin Tower had no more security than it did on any other day, and that intended mostly to prevent accidents and suicides. The streets loved to hear it, though they hoped the police would make another vain attempt at the next occasion. "Variety within tradition" was the motto of Priscarbs.
A flash! A sound! A figure appeared on the tower. It hesitated, as any criminal would when faced by so suspicious a situation, but soon assured itself that the police had well and truly dropped the reins for the night.
"Now!" The statue of a dove taking flight split apart, and from within charged Inspector Iagius and Custos Falgunus. They looped the thief and wrapped him up before he could say they had the wrong man, not that there would have been much point in that.
"Caught you! There's no to wring a confession out of you under the circumstances, but processing will go smoother if you tell us your name."
"Time."
"Strange name, but that's for your parents to think about. Take him in, Falgunus." Thanks to that triumph of police technique, the year only grew in value. The cold weather seemed to be strangely elongated in duration, but it cleared up later, just about when the thief was released for good behavior.
Finis

Q&A Corner

Q. Does the excellence of early Buck Rogers prove everything was better in the past?
A. No. Only the comic strips.