Victor Nicholas & Erskin Quint Discover the Second Source of the Great Bumbogoola River - Part The Three

Funny story written by victor nicholas

Wednesday, 21 April 2010

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Erskin Appeared Pleased

Just as the audience at the exclusive Threadbare Street Bogus Officers Club finished gasping with awe after Erskin Quint of the newly formed Adventurer's Club extemporized on his journey with Victor Nicholas to the Ufganufgwa Interior in search of the source of the Great Green Bumbogoola River of Eastern Nbomoland they were treated to yet another tale of adventure by Victor Nicholas regarding the second source of the Great Bumogoola River.

By now the crowd had grown thicker attracted by the morsels of fine food falling from the plates of the guests and serving platters and half-empty glasses of liquid nectar. Dark eyes filled the crowded establishmentary recalling the many evenings the gentlemen explorers had experienced at the foot of the Bimbo Bombo Highlands before setting forth for the dark jungle summits of the Ufganufgwa Interior. Colonel Horseblanket had somehow managed to leave the door open while stepping outside for a bit of fresh air and a toodle-loo to Euphemia Hellebore and her coven dressed in frock coats and too tight corsets as they arrived late and had not noticed the less than savoury characters that crouched in the shadows and crept in unannounced to the dark corners of the assembly hall.

But who would have noticed?

The great orator Nicholas slowly rose and with great dignity placed both thumbs behind his famous antimony suspenders and announced in stentorian tones that "The Great Bumogoola River has not one source as thought but a second source in the Mamawooogamunga River that crosses over the path of the Bumbogoola several times and then links back into it again as one in splendid riparian fashion sometimes defying nature by going uphill for periods of time and loop the loop before gushing forward aquatically with energy redoubled, the picture of magnificence."

Erskin Quint pulled on his ochre meerschaum in a self-satisfied manner and nodded approvingly with a freshly-charged glass of Wellington's Reserve Boal 1958 clasped close to his brocade vestpocket.

"Our plan was clarity itself. We aimed to traverse the Gobbo Gobbo Mudlands and penetrate the Blue Crystal Mountains of Btompo-HaHa. There, we would pick up the infant tributaries that would lead us unerringly to the Great Green Bumbogoola River. But that plan was soon shattered when we came upon the famous and somewhat confused band of Alternate Titty-Tappers that we had hoped to take on as guides after passing through the Gobbo Gobbo Mudlands. The native's habit of alternately tapping their titties with their fingertips while enjoyable to watch for the females proved of little value from a navigational perspective and left Erskin and I at a complete loss as to which path to take to the Blue Crystal Mountains. Our predicament was solved by arranging for a private interlude with Chief Poogy who unlike his followers had a habit of raising his chin and tapping his throat in a ceremony called the Double Darooow. He assured us that dark and mysterious forces haunted the jungle and would work to defeat us in our search for the source of the river unless we put our faith in local customs."

"So casting modern navigational techniques of compass and sextant to the four winds we sallied forth with our heads held high, Erskin doing the Double Daroow while I led the rest of our crew and our native beaters in a well choreographed march accompanied by the sound of alternate titty-tapping."

"Needless to say we stumbled and fell as much as we advanced into the jungle but our faith in the dark mysteries was not shaken and we carried on for the better part of a day when I heard a loud Halooo! from Erskin who seemed to take a terrible tumble and disappeared. We all stepped forward to investigate all the while keeping pace to alternate titty-tapping which by now we had complete faith in. Not stopping to think we too started tumbling and cart wheeling in a reckless manner for what seemed like ages until we fell conveniently upon a mossy bank where Erskin stood not the worse for wear speaking to an odd fellow who claimed to be Tahadeeseepoo Molanseepong, an elder of the Willy Wee-Nug tribe. Despite our scientific methods we had chanced upon the jumping off point to the base camp leading to the summit of the giant upside-down mountain Mount Fudgy and the source of the Great Green Bumbogoola River."

"Giddy with our good fortune I slapped Erskin on the back who returned my boisterous behavior with a stern look and a warning."

"Many men have tried to summit the great upside-down mountain but nobody has returned alive."

"I reminded Erskin that we had fortuitously brought cylinders of Helium with us just for this very circumstance which I ordered the beaters to inflate hyena skins with as balloons to slow our decent to the summit of the upside-down mountain and forestall danger."

"Thus prepared we braced ourselves to begin our journey down to base camp in the morning."

The funny story above is a satire or parody. It is entirely fictitious.

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