Josh-D. S. Davis

Xaminmo / Omnimax / Max Omni / Mad Scientist / Midnight Shadow / Radiation Master

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Whacky
Josh 201604 KWP
joshdavis
The telephone honked melodiously. He picked it up and after a moment's hesitation asked, 'Hello -- is that me?' The answer he had been fearing came back. 'You, it is. Who are you?' He sighed: argument was useless -- besides, he knew he was in the wrong. 'All right,' he said wearily. 'You win.' A sudden purple twinge of toothache nearly choked him for a moment and he added hopelessly: 'Don't forget to have that stopping seen to this afternoon.' 'Ouch! as if I would,' growled the voice testily. There was a pause. 'Well, what do you want me to do now?' he asked at last. The reply, though half expected, was chilling. 'Do? It doesn't matter. You just aren't!'

'The amazing affair of the Elastic Sided Eggwhisk,' said the Great Detective, 'would no doubt have remained unsolved to this very day, if by great misfortune it had ever occurred. The fact that it didn't I count as one of my luckiest escapes.'

Those of us who possessed heads nodded in agreement.

He paused to drain the sump of his hookah, then continued.

'But even that fades into insignificance begore the horrible tragedy that occurred in the House Where the Aspidistra Ran Amok. Fortunately I was not born at the time: otherwise I should certainly have been one of the victims.'

We shuddered in assent. Some of us had been there. Some of us were still there.

'Weren't you connected with the curious case of the Camphorated Kipper?'

He coughed deprecatingly.

'Intimately, I was the Camphorated Kipper.'

At this point, two men arrived to carry me back to the taxidermist's, so I cannot tell you any more.

'Phew!' said the man in the pink silk pyjamas. 'I had a horrid dream last night!'

'Oh?' said the other disinterestedly.

'Yes -- I thought that my wife had poisoned me for the insurance. It was so vivid I was mighty glad when I woke up.'

'Indeed?' said his companion politely. 'And just where do you think you are right now?'

-Arthur C. Clark, The Fantast, July 1942

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