Tuesday, 30 August 2011

I think his first sentence went to my head...

A genuine email I recieved not too long ago, and my sincere and heartfelt reply...


Pardon me for not having the pleasure of knowing your mindset before making you this offer and it is utterly
confidential and genuine by virtue of its nature.

I write to solicit your assistance in a funds transfer deal involving US$3.5M.This fund has been stashed out of the
excess profit made last 2years by my branch office of the International Commercial Bank of Ghana which I am the manager.

I have already submitted an approved end-of-the-year report for the year 2007 to my head office here in Accra-Ghana and they will never know of this excess.

I have since then, placed this amount on a Non-Investment Account without a beneficiary. Upon your response, I will
configure your name on our database as holder of the Non-Investment Account. I will then guide you on how to
apply to my head office for the Account Closure/bank-to-bank remittance of the funds to your designated bank

If you concur with this proposal, I intend for you to retain 30% of the funds while 70% shall be for me. Kindly forward
your response to me immediately

With Regards,
George Nduka
+233 24 888 6531

Dear George,

Your foremost apology is inherently appreciated and understood as such. By the merit of your kindness and the generosity of your heart, I can tell you are a beneficiary of the greatest endeavour.

However, further to my previous bestowing of candour on your part, it pains me deep within my soul to bear truth to your words and honesty before your remittance. I do not, as of this time, possess a bank account with which to incur such monetary forbearances.

However, in light of these economical revelations, I have since given birth to a notion of the highest order. I will come to you and collect these funds, at no greater a cost to you yourself of, say, £1500. Being an individual of the most sought after integrity and virtue, I of course would require a first class aeroplane ticket, away from the scurrilous vices and masturbatory pestilence of the diseased vermin that infests 'economy class'.

Once in the blessed and bountiful land of Ghana, I would then require accommodation of the fittest possible standard for someone of my bearing and loyal kinship. 5 stars, no less. And throw in a safari, too. Uh, a safari that conveys all the majesty and nobility of the animal lineage which thereupon plays such a transcendent role.

Oh, and make it 60/40 in my favour. My...benevolent and valorous favour. Is valorous even a word? There's no red squiggly line underneath it, so I guess it's a word. Uhh, salutations and fare-thee-wells, my resplendent brother and egregious friend. Do I mean egregious? Whatever...

Yours sincerely,

Sam Smith.

Wednesday, 3 August 2011

The Curious Case of the Swollen Organ, part 5 (of 5).

The continuing continuation comes to a conclusion. Conclusively.

"Come on then, let's see what you've got" Haversham chuckled, feinting to his left, and attempting to land a blow to Holmes' face. Holmes dodged this easily, manoeuvred himself behind Haversham and connected with a right hook to his kidneys. Haversham whirled around unsteadily, and tried an uppercut. Holmes ducked with the grace of a ballerina, causing his hat to dislodge itself, leant forward on one foot and punched Haversham squarely on the nose. He stumbled backwards, slipped on the chrysalis that had somehow found its way onto the floor, and tumbled over, his head cracking audibly against the hardwood floor as he went. I stepped over to his prone form and quickly checked his vitals, expecting the worst. Fortunately he was merely unconscious. I glanced over to see Holmes dusting off his deerstalker and replacing it atop his head. He then walked over to where Mrs Haversham lay, and, ever the gentleman, sat her up gently as she came to, explaining what had just happened.
“Oh Mr Holmes, I simply must apologise for my husband’s beastly behaviour. I just hope he won’t bear any grudge towards you.”
Holmes laughed at this. “Madam, if he so wishes, he may challenge me to a rematch, although I would attempt to dissuade him from this particular course of action!”
Finally, he bent down and kissed her outstretched hand, then shook it and stood up to face me. We left the building without a word between us, and it wasn’t until we were journeying homewards in a cab that Holmes turned to me and spoke.
"Watson, my friend, what I told that man was a lie. He wasn't the victim of a dastardly plot dreamt up by a vengeful tailor. He was the victim of something far worse."
I gasped, and swivelled to face Watson. In all my years of knowing him, I'd never been witness to him lying.
"It turns out, Watson, that there is a foe sweeping this city which even my quite brilliant powers of observation will be unable to stop. Sexual awakening. I read about it in a book or other many years ago, but thought it to be myth until just a few weeks previously. But now it seems more and more people are succumbing to this psychological succubus."
I reeled at the information Holmes was laying out before me, struggling to take it all in.
"People are slowly realising that they can have sexual intercourse for pleasure", he whispered, hissing the last word between gritted teeth. "And we're looking at a full blown sexual revolution on our hands. Still, there'll always be you and me, eh Watson? Watson?"
I heard not a word more of Holmes' diatribe, for at that very moment I leapt from the moving carriage and had it away on my legs up Baker Street. The reason, you ask? Why, to engage in the wanton act of consensual procreation with my wife, of course. I am a red-blooded male, at the end of the day...

I actually sent this story in its entirety to a Manchester-based writing collective who shall remain nameless. Apparently, it wasn't what they were looking for...

Monday, 1 August 2011

The Curious Case of the Swollen Organ, part 4 (of 5).

The continuation of the continuing saga continues continuing...

“My dear Mrs Haversham”, Holmes said coolly, “any creature is easy to obtain in London if one knows where to look and who to ask. Why, I could secure for you an Indian elephant by the end of the week if you so desired.”
"But what about me?" Mr Haversham spluttered. "You say I've been poisoned, is there any cure?" He gesticulated wildly as he spoke. Holmes regarded him patiently, waiting for him to finish.
"Mr Haversham, worry not. The poison is but a very mild one. Its effects should wear off presently."
"Pendleforth really had thought of everything" I observed.
"Almost" Holmes exclaimed. "Should Mr Haversham had paid what he owed, Pendleforth could simply have called over on some pretence and removed the erstwhile intruder without issue. He even went so far as to ensure the window was left open, allowing the butterfly to escape. Quite ingenious. But what he hadn't thought of was London's greatest sleuth and his languor of an assistant! Now, onwards, to Pendleforth's abode!"
Holmes trotted towards the door, but Mr Haversham leapt in his way, a foolish act if ever there was one.
"Now see here, Holmes! You think you can just waltz in here, tie a fancy bow around things, then bugger orf without so much as a by your leave? Well, I'm afraid you're very much mistaken sir!"
Holmes stepped back, clearly impressed by this man's audacity, although he didn't show it.
"What would you have me do, Mr Haversham?" he asked.
At this, Haversham blew up like a great balloon, red with anger. His moustaches bristled, and he clenched his teeth so hard I feared they might shatter.
"What would I have you do?" he almost screamed. "I'd have you arrest that Pendleforth villain for attempted murder, as well as forcing him to pay out generous reparations into the bargain."
Holmes smiled thinly and shook his head. This set Haversham off once more, and he began moving about the room like an agitated clockwork toy.
"Firstly, the poison he gave you was only a mild one at most, as I've already tried explaining to you. Hardly attempted murder. Secondly, as for reparations, you're the one who owes him money, and I'd pay up if I were you. In all honesty, my hat is well and truly off to such a cunning individual."
At this revelation, Haversham almost collapsed in abject fury, but just about managed to regain some sort of composure.
"I knew it, you're in league with this treacherous scoundrel" he howled, pointing at Holmes with a trembling finger. "Well, you picked the wrong fellow to try and con, let me tell you. I used to be boxing champion at Cambridge back in the day, and I dare say I've still got a few moves left in me. Come on now, put up your dukes."
Mrs Haversham, who had up until now been watching the tense scene unfold before her with some distress, finally fainted with a sigh onto the ornate divan behind her. Haversham meanwhile, threw off his jacket, and began bobbing and weaving about the room, punching the air. Holmes simply stood still in the centre of the room, watching this ridiculous figure dance a fool's jig around him.