Kleenin Up Them ArftrMaths

Musashi/Octavian Sez:

Now that our writr bunneez has had tim to lee-ay-zon wift M in Londin, we kin now updayt yu on the stayt of affayrz in sothern Frans, wher we leftid our hero (whu is kinda me) an mai frendz. But ther is lotsa tecknikul detail an I am jus now recovrin from dansin Conga to “Copacabana” fer the las 10 monfts!!! (This whut happinz wen yer writrz go off an joynz a cult. Huh.) So we’r goin to let Mom/Narraytr Gal, yu noe, narrayts.

Narrator Says:

Actually, Octavian has it backwards. In fact, on September 25, when the folks at the inn started dancing the conga line to the communal frenzied singing of the “Copacabana,” a whol dae after the dans began, our entir pool of writer bunneez hared off to join a cult of rabbit Krishnas in Nebraska, U.S., leeving our heroz, some villains and several dozen arguably innocent frentch citizens and internashunl toorists locked in a 10-monft long temperospatial claudication.

Wift som halp frum the Archaik Ordr of the Librariunz of Alekzandria, M16 wuz able to modify the memoreez of the participants and their naybrz so that they all beleevz they watchd an eg-skroshi-aytin 4-hour long “So Yu Thingk Yu Kin Dans.”

Durin the 9-hour gap between freeing the bunneez an getting to the inn down in sothern Franz, however, the Jamaykin band disapeerd mysteeryuslee. The Libraryunz ar followin up on that end whil M16 werkz on de breefin its agents an their assosiyutz.

A grayt deel of nappin is goin on sins M chewd out Octavian fer messin up a mishun that had been 9 monfts in the maykin. Mos of this nappin is goin on in a (rathr crwdid) dog hous behind a Londin apartmint rentid out near Diagon Alley. Verree lo rent.

But yu din’t heer that frum me.

Mai Not So Glameruss Debreefin

Musashi Sez:

Don’t aksk me about the travelin bak to Londin. It don’t ber thingkin about, wift all the turning cornrz an chanjin altatoodz, an lik that. We gots bak to MI-6’s seekret hedqwatterz, which they parentlee shayr wift som export companee, tho I din’t see no boxsis beein pakt.

M an her sekretaree sat down wift me and Alek in her verree shynee metul-an-glass offis an akskd us all kindsa qwestshunz. Alek tol his part of our adventchur, an then I tol myn. They hadsd alreddee mayd pikchurz out of mai film an we wer all impresst wift how cleer they all wer.

M lookt at the metal drumz markd wift the Chyneez writin an sed, “China. Unexpected, but hardly surprising. Tell me, Musashi, where do you suppose the UK buys the ink for its money?”

I thogt hard. “Um…Chyna?”

“Exactly. And China has recently raised its price for ink, claiming to have made expensive changes in the formula that will make it more ecologically sustainable.”

“Greenr ink?” I askd.

“Quite. This is very useful, Musashi. But tell me, this last image, what’s this? The bank’s surveillance office?”

“I ges so. It had to be pertee importint fer Hayr Direktr Shmit to be ther at 3 in the morning at nigt. That’s why I tukt the pickshur, cuz it seem kinda unegspektid.”

“I don’t like it,” said Alek.

“Well, I wuz trying to run out the dor at the tim, so it gots kinda blooree. Sorree ‘bout that.”

M shook her hed. “That’s not what he means. Hmm. We’ll have to look into this. Thank you, Musashi. Three for the price of one: the Chinese connection, some questionable activities of Herr Schmidt, and the news of Miss Fourpaws’ money laundering. Could be useful, that. Good work, gentlemen. You’ve earned some time off.”

“Not too mutch, I hopz,” I sed, rubbin agenst M’s ankulz.

She leend down an kisst me on the hed. “We’ll see.”

Alek rolld his eyz at me as we left her offis, but he kept his pr omis to halp me find som MARMITE fer a sooveneer fer mai mom befor halpin me get mai playn hom from Heethro.

Cuz that what frendz is fer, eh whut?