Part 7: Hook-a-duck and the Dignified Ladies Association

We head back to the main island. (time doesn't pass as we head back - this games chronology is all messed up! Aha!)
...
In any case, saying hello to Jimmy:

: I saw the Juju man you told me about.

: Really? He never woulda been around in the days before the Leper Colony. The little fellas that used to live there would have run him off the island. They could be pretty fierce, when the mood took them.

: Bye Jimmy!

: Come back soon honey.

We move on to checking the shops for flag building material. Well, first we consult with our friend:



: Oh, he's a powerful juju man, Nelly. Even Bloodbeard was wary of tangling with him.

: Really?

: If you're up against El Mano, you want some kind of magic on your side.

: Do you know anything about flags?

: Not a lot. What kind are you looking for?

: A pink one with a rainbow and a shamrock.

: Hmm... You won't find one like that here. You'll probably have to make it yourself.

: Bye.

: Come back soon.



: Ve are having a few...

: Are they pink? With rainbows on them?

: No... they are being black and brown, mostly.

: Damn.
...
I have two daalers. Rubbing them together isn't as fun as you'd think.
...
What will this buy me?

: Ve are selling only quality merchandise.

: Yes, I'm afraid one daaler will not be going very far.

Hrrm.



: 'Fraid the delivery didn't come in this morning.

: Why?

: Sea monster.

: A sea monster got the delivery boy?

: No, a sea monster WAS the delivery boy. They're notoriously unreliable, dear. The twit probably spent the day posing for a cartographer.

: Any idea where I could get a big pink flag?

: Once I saw the baroness hang out her big pink bloomers... They'd make a fine old flag! Ha ha!

: Hmm...

: Hey... you ain't really considering makin' a flag of the old birds underthings, are you?

: Yes, yes I am.
...
Toodle-oo.

Shortly latter, outside:

: He looks like a cockney...



: Greetings, Sir... I'm Nelly.

: 'Ello dahlin'. Stibble Bellwise here, roll-up etc. Can I interest your good self in a hook-a-duck challenge? Marvelous prizes to be won!

: Ooh, give me a try!

: Not so fast miss... Cross my palm wiv one daaler.

: You're a cockney!

: You're right there, dahlin.

: How did you get such a long way from London?

: It's a long story, it all began many years ago...

............

...sea-turtles...

...........

: That's incredible!

: Turned out nice, actually... me bein' a Hook-A-Duck expert and Meeth being badly in need of a Hook-A-Duck stall.

: How's business?

: Quiet, if truth be told.
I'll never close this stall though! Hook-a-duck is in my blood, it's all I know...

: Good for you, you're living the dream!
...
What are the prizes?

: Each is a unique Meeth curio... but the prize you get depends on how many ducks you hook. A daaler buys you eight chances...
One duck wins you a fine sample of the local sea water...

and in logical progression we have:

Antique Meeth telephone directory
traditional Meethian penny-whistle
attractive potted cactus
loverly shell necklace
deck of souvenir playing cards
Meethian Wool rainbow scarf (indispensable in this weather)
And finally, eight ducks wins you Baron Widebeards spoken word album "I hate you, and everything you care about". The first all-shouting spoken word record.

: I have a daaler and I want to play the game.

: Marvelous! Each duck has a metal cap wiv a hook on it. All you have to do is hook 'em!
...
Are you ready?
: Let's do this!

: You're ready to play... let's look at the prizes

...



: Now grab that hook and we'll begin.
You're all set... away we go!



Nelly tries her best, but the ducks duck just as she tries to hook them.

: And that's Hook-A-Duck!
...
Bad luck, dahlin'. You didn't hook a single duck.

: Those ducks ducked.



: This game is rigged! You've trained them to dodge!

: Nonsense! I'm as honest as the next cockney.

: So you admit it!

: What? No! Listen dahlin, it's a simple enough game: The ducks wear little metal hooks, you have a big metal hook. You use the big hook to catch the ducks - easy!

: The ducks duck whenever I get the hook near their little hats!

: Nonsense, you just don't have the skills!

: You're a cheat, and I'm going to report you to - to the hook-a-duck... embassy!

: Uh-oh...

: I have contacts there you know... In the embassy.

: Well... how about I give you your daaler back? You can have another try if you like!

: Hmm... okay.
...
Thank you.

Up next:



: Pants about the same size as a flag...

: Why, have they gone out of style?
I mean, how impertinent! I shan't stand here while you described my underthings!

: Well sit down then.

: I beg your-

: Listen, Baroness - can I call you Ness?

: No!

: Listen, Ness... I wasn't going to say anything, but...

: What is it?

: People have started to talk... Enormous pink pants went out with the last ice age.

: They did? Oh, I knew it! If only this damn boutique was still open, my nethers would be clad in high-fashion underthings!

: Would you swap your old pants for new?

: In a flash! I need underwear that's cutting edge... daring and... scandalous!

: Mebees I can find you some...

: You think I'd let you choose my clothes? You're wearing seaweed crotchet and bird feathers!

: 100% donated bird feathers.

: Pah!

: Still, if someone - not me - brought you a pair of cutting edge, daring, scandalous pants...

: Yes...

: You'd swap your big old flag-like pink ones?

: In an instant!

: Hmm...

And so...



: if you're lookin' for a pirate getup, you should try next door.

: No, I need underwear, and not just ordinary underwear... I need something cutting edge, daring, and scandalous.

: Say no more. It's time you were introduce to Mme Leatherette's secret collection.



: They're cutting edge, daring and scandalous, I'm sure you'll agree.

: That's certainly daring and scandalous. And those spikes do look cutting edge.
...
I'd like a... Saucy Sue.

: Oh, aye? That'll be 150 daalers.

: No problem, give me a moment to check my funds...

Money, money, money. We need 850 daalers. Wherever could we get some? Nelly heads to Widebeard Tower, wondering whether there's anything left within the safe, when she notices the way up to the roof is now open.



Dignified Ladies Association theme:

: She's holding a little dog with- Hey! It has a four leaf clover in its mouth.
...
I could try and steal that clover out of the dogs jaws... but it looks like the snarly vicious type.
...
Okay Trilby:

: Mew?

: I want you to get that clover out of that dog's slobbering jaw. Go!



: Now's your chance!

: Mew!

: I think my stealthy moggy is too timid for the job.

Oh well. Maybe asking nicely is an option.



: I'm Hortense Crocket, chairwoman of the Dignified Ladies Association of Meeth.

: What's going on here?

: Today is a great day for the Dignified Ladies Association... we're going to circumnavigate the globe in twelve seconds. The current record is four years, and we're very hopeful of breaking it.

: From the look of that contraption, I'm sure you'll break something... I thought the DLA mostly did fetes and bring-and-buy sales...

: That was before we had the support of the Baron and the Baroness. They thought our resources would be better directed towards aeronautics and away from crochet. So here we are, ready to make history!

: What's the hold up?

: Be patient, dear! We're waiting for the pilot.

: Who?

: Angelo Lightfoot, a daredevil of whom we're all in awe.

: He's a dreamboat...

: Quiet Myrtle.

: Well, are you sure he's coming?

: Of course! We have a deal and Angelo will be paid handsomely.

: What's that contraption?

: That is the cutting edge of sky-travel technology. It has been built solely but the local housewives, I named it after myself: The Crocket Rocket!

: Have you considered an alternative name?

: Like what?



: The Bone Mangler? Captain Stupid's Road to Death?

:...
I don't like your tone, young lady.

: So why's it fish shaped?

: I took my inspiration from the natural world: the flying fish.

: Don't you reckon a bird shape would be better for a flying machine?

: We tried that first, but scales were easier to make than feathers.

: So what's the bed on stilts for?

: Ah! That is the very clever part. That is where the pilot will land after he circles the earth. At the last moment of the journey, the rocket will open its jaw... and spit Angelo to the safety of this carefully positioned bed.

: It's my bed...

: Hush Myrtle.

: What will happen to the rocket itself?

: It will explode.

: Ah...
...
Your dog seems to have a shamrock...

: Yes, I picked it from the bottom of the tower for little Morris here.

: Morris?

: Morris Snuggleton, my darling pooch.


: You mean that insultingly small dog?

: I'll have you know, dear, Morris is a thoroughbred! He has papers. Do you?

: My birth certificate was written on a bus timetable...

: My goodness, how can you live like that?

: It's normally fine, but I don't run on Sundays.
...
Can I have your dog's for-leaf clover?

: No, I need it for poor old Morris. He's the worlds unluckiest dog.

: "Morris Snuggleton" is an unlucky name.

: He was recently voted the most unpopular dog in Dorset. He's never even been to Dorset...

: No, but you can see their point.

: My little darling is a poor dear, aren't you? Aren't you my little Morris?

: Uch...
...
Laters.

Nelly heads on down only to notice:



Intercepting private correspondence, Nelly reads:

: "Beautiful women of the DLA. I'm afraid I shan't be able to fly today... as my feet have been unexpectedly set in concrete. A thousand apologies - Angelo Lightfoot. -xxx- ."
...
Looks like Angelo chickened out of the death-flight. Interesting...

I think we can take advantage of the situation. But before we do, Trilby and Cat Guts should be introduced to each other.

: Okay then, let's try this...
...
I got me a fierce Cat Burglar!

: Mew!

We head back upstairs and...



: Mew!



: He did it!

: Good Lord! What on earth was that?!

: Ah... seagull.

: The monster attacked my little Morris!

: They get quite big around here.

: It took his lucky four-leaf clover!

: Well, it can't have been very lucky.



: Not yet, but he'll be here soon.

: Maybe he's having second thoughts about flying in a rocket designed by a deranged half-blind old biddy.

: How dare you! Angelo Lightfoot is a gentleman!

: Such a gentleman...

: That's enough Myrtle! Angelo will be here soon, just you watch. He'd be a fool to pass up his payment.

: Yes, what about his payment?

: He will be rewarded with a substantial gift voucher for the Store of Babylon.

: "Gift Voucher", eh?

: That's right.

: "Substantial", eh?

: Of course.

: "The Store of Babylon", eh?

: Yes, what are you getting at?

: "For", eh?

: Stop wasting my time.

Join us next time as we attempt to impersonate a daredevil pilot.

Update cut into two for size. Still three more to go.