Part 18?


“Bananas, will our torment ever be at an end?” Asked Ayres piteously, while stretching out for the marmalade pot, from which he took a generous spoonful to spread on the remaining piece of toast.

We had returned to Baker Street by night sleeper, and were now restored by the ministrations of Mrs Hudson.

“Mrs Hudson,” I said, “once again we are replete. Now if Ayres would only give me a fill of shake for my pipe, I would deem the favour paid twice over and be forever in his grateful debt.”

She had done us proud. She had served the last of the summer cantaloupes as a refreshing fruit cocktail to clear our palate for the devilled kidneys.

"Why, thank you Doctor,” she smiled, “Dr Watson always says that my melons are the best he ever…”

The last words were lost as the kindly Scotch housekeeper shut the door.

That great detective had remained silent, but turned to us now, deep lines of concern on his noble brow.

“We must return to Alucard forthwith, before our absence is discovered.” he said.

At these alarming words, a vile hissing raspberry broke from Ayres end, of the table.
We both turned to him. He seemed to have shrunk an inch or two in his craven funk.

“Take heart Ayres,” I encouraged, “we shall face the dangers with you.”

Ayres slumped further and another loud, shameful emission met my stout words. It was most disconcerting watching the man shrink before us, losing control. I was on the point of opening a window when

“Your pneumatic peace-ring Ayres!” exclaimed Bananas. “It seems you have a puncture.”

Sure enough, the inflatable seat given him by Dr Evil, now lay flat and joyless beneath him.


Further conversation was interrupted however by Ayres’ apparatus in the corner, as the brass bell rang, the lights flashed and the paper tape issued from the slot designed solely for that purpose. With a sigh, Ayres went to investigate.


“Read it out, Ayres!” shouted The Finest Intellect in the Empire.

“It’s only the association football results, G.B.” muttered Ayres over his shoulder.
“Humour us Ayres, I’m expecting something over the wire this day.”

“…….Wales 1, Bohemia 5, ……Denmark nil, Ulster nil,…...Cyprus 5, Ireland 2,….England nil, Macedonia nil...... Scotland 1, France nil, ………..Have run off to Gretna with Miss Sarah Evil. Getting hitched….El. B.……”
“Say that again!” Exclaimed Bananas in great agitation.
“England nil Macedonia nil.”
“Not that bit you fool! The other bit!”
“Sorry G.B., em, where was I?...Scotland 1, France nil!”
“Give me that tape Ayres!” demanded the marvellous ape.

“I think this calls for a celebration.” I suggested.