Monday, February the 27th, 2006
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The final chapter of our exciting serial story The Immense Duckpond Pamphlet
The sleuth Aminadab felt it was time to retire. This had been his ten thousandth case, quite enough for any detective. He and Unstrobnedtalb, or Unstrebnodtalb, whatever his name was, had parted as dawn broke on the Thursday morning. They had stood triumphantly, arm in arm, each with a foot—or in Unstrebnodtalb's case, more properly a hoof—planted on the dead body of Blodgett, or Jubble.
The end had been horrifying, and very messy. They had had to call on Euwige to help, and by the time they realised the scimitar had not been sharpened it was too late. Afterwards, Euwige and Moop got rid of the corpse. The distant splash led Aminadab to conclude that Blodgett/Jubble's body ended up in one of the twenty six ponds, but he didn't really care which one.
Three weeks later, when he returned home, he wrote up the case as usual. Fuelled by dandelion and burdock and bilgegrew buns, he sat late into the night engraving his zincographs. Half of what he wrote was lies, of course. Unstrebnodtalb hardly featured in the Aminadab version. Moop and Trellis virtually disappeared, although he awarded them a footnote in a sentimental moment.
He was, as usual, merciless with himself. If anyone ever bothered to read the narrative, they would surely conclude that the sleuth Aminadab didn't have a clue what was going on, and still didn't twig what had actually happened even at the end, as he bid farewell to Detective Captain Unstrebnodtalb, his absurd agglomeration of luggage long abandoned save for the punnet and reticule, enormous birds beating their enormous wings around him as he stood ankle-deep in mud, weird and hapless, at the very edge of the immense duckpond.