The Dastardly Unnecessary Adventures Of Sir Tarquin Lamb Pasanda And His Good Colleagues Sirs Fitzwellington Tikka Massala and Gregory Bacon Phaal!

JUST FOOD BUSINESS

The mining ship drilled steadily through the earth, carrying Fitzwellington, Gregory and I to safety. Gregory had set the coordinates for China for some reason. I had taken over from Sir Gregory while he jammed in the engine room, when suddenly something came up on the sensor. Fitzwellington cut the engine and I grabbed my Colt, went to the hatch and opened it. At first I saw nothing, then a red light blinked on, then another and then another, until about 20 lights were shining. I suddenly heard the sound of a safety catch being taken off, so I dived below the hatch as a torrent of bullets hit the vehicle. Foebots! They were closing in on the vehicle, and it was them vs. Fitz and I (Sir Gregory was being an antisocial bastard and jamming on his own in a dark room)! I blind fired from the hatch and told Sir Fitz to start the engine. The vehicle shuddered to life as the drill began to heat up again. I risked a look at the enemy and saw more coming down the tunnel! There were at least 70 Foebots attacking us, so I did something I never thought I'd ever need to do. I rubbed the magic maple leaf.

The tunnel began to rumble, and there he was. He looked at the attackers, his moustache glowing with power, and raised his arm, incinerating them instantly. He turned to me, his eyes alight with divinity and nodded. "You have two leaves left, my disciple." then disappeared a maple leaf shaped explosion, leaving an echo of O Canada behind. The vehicle began to drill again and I once more pulled down the hatch and settled in my seat. We were less than 2 hours from China, where my associate was waiting. I had sent a message to the rest of the team to be there as well. It would be good to see them all again after six months. As I sat back and sipped a bit of whisky, Sir Gregory came out. "You would not believe the shit I've been through for the last 20 minutes. I can't seem to nail this riff!" He moaned. I promptly told him to go fuck himself, the useless hippy.

 We resurfaced near Beijing. Needless to say, we all wore gas masks and radiation suits when we left the ship. So that no one could find it, I covertly detonated a nuclear bomb in the vehicle when we were far away enough. Gregory got rather stroppy after that, as I'd accidentally destroyed his original copy of Sunflowers. I told him not to worry, it was shit anyway.

We climbed a large mountain where there was a small compound perched at the summit. This was Chow Mein Palace. We entered the compound to find Sir Jimothy, Dame Bebelia, Lady Lucinda and a Chinese man standing in the gardens. We all exchanged greetings, with great joy or in Dame Bebelia's case great confusion. I turned and bowed to the Chinese man. "You must be Viscount Benson Chow Mein. It is an honour to meet you at last, my mentor spoke highly of you." I told him. The man shook his head. "I am not Viscount Benson. I am his mentor." I was puzzled. "But the great Viscount is a wise old man, is he not? Why does he require a mentor?" I asked. The old man shook his head sadly. "Viscount Benson died a year ago. His successor is now Viscount Benson. They are... fairly different people." He answered. "Come. He will wish to meet you." The old man gestured us to follow him into the main building. He pushed open a large door and entered the room, where a young man sat, trying to get soup into his mouth with chopsticks. The old man cleared his throat. "Viscount. These people have travelled far to come and see you. They require your assistance." he announced. The Viscount looked up at us, soup dribbling down his chin. "I'm like, a Viscount now." He announced. "I have a house and everything. I am a powerful man I think, but even I cannot beat the agility of soup." Dame Bebelia waved at him. "Oooh! I know this one! You need a fork! No, a knife! No! A spork! No! A SPOON! That's the one!" she gushed happily. Viscount Benson grinned. "Spoon! Of course! That make me many happy! Rusky!" he called. A dog came padding out from a different room. Benson smiled at it, then suddenly looked at us. "You no Korean, no?" He asked suspiciously. We shook our heads. "Good!" he shouted. "This Rusky! He my best friend!" We all smiled politely. The old man shook his head and walked out. As soon as the door shut, Viscount Benson stood up and bowed to us. "My friends, I apologise for the display of sillyness. What is it you need?"

We sat round Viscount Benson's table with a large map. He was grinning while chewing dry rice. "This is a very old map, many secrets on it." he said. I nodded my head and turned it to myself. I then looked at Viscount Benson. "I am looking for Commodore's Cove. Can you find it?" I asked him. Benson shook his head. "I not know how this map works. It hides what it shows in showing it hidden, you see?" I did not. Benson turned to play with Rusky and knocked over his rice bowl - which then began to form islands and landforms on the map! A cluster of rice in the Caribbean clearly marked COMMODORE'S COVE. "You did it!" I shouted gleefully. Benson turned round. "What I do?" he asked, confused. I shook my head. "Don't worry..." 

We reached the Chinese coast - Sirs Fitzwelligton, Gregory, Jimothy, Dames Bebelia and Lucinda, Viscount Benson and myself. Viscount Benson had told us he had a boat for us to use, but about ten minutes from the coast he remembered he'd forgotten where he last remembered to forget it. So we would ask the locals if they'd seen a giant supercruiser fitted with a stadium and a labyrinth. Sadly, none of them had. Benson said something about "checking underwater" and wandered off, while I looked for a ship to stea-borrow. As I looked around the harbour someone came up behind me. I turned to attack them to find myself looking at Mexican Gregory!

It turned out Mexican Gregory had gone out on behalf of Her Majesty's Secret Sandwich Service to find us - we still had friends in certain places, it seemed - and help us in clearing our names. He had been given his own ship, El Ignacio, which could take us to Commodore's Cove. So, we boarded his ship and set sail for the Cove. Onboard the ship, while Mexi Greg was on the bridge, Fitz, Greg, Jim, Benson and I played cards. After pointing out to Benson that "shouting what you have to make the other people forget what they have" only works for about a second, the conversation turned to the Cove. Benson did not know what it was, as he had never worked with me. I sat back in my chair, sipped my scotch, then began the story.

"It all starts back with my great ancestor, Admiral Hugo Lamb Pasanda. He worked with the East India Company in the Caribbean, and over the years he became a valued asset to the Company. However, one day he set sail for an ancient island on which stood the Golden City, made out of pure, crafted silver. He, his ship or his crew was never found. But what we do know is that Hugo made a stop on his way to the Golden City of Silver - where he left all his treasure and heirlooms." 

"Years later, a later ancestor, Commodore Archibald Lamb Pasanda, traced his grandfather's steps and found the Cove, where he also found the treasure, family heirlooms and a crusty sock. Using the treasure to house the heirlooms in the Cove (after discarding the sock), he expanded it into a home and named the island Commodore Cove. He lived in the home for twenty years before moving back to London after running out of scotch. He died in a horrible situation where he was raped by kidnappers and fed to hamsters. So the Cove was forgotten once more."

"Then, during the First World War, my great grandfather, Vice Admiral Horatio Lamb Pasanda and his colleague Captain Harold Tuna Mayo abandoned their ship after it was sunk and by chance washed up on the island. They waited out the war and in 1919 they returned to London, took as much alcohol as they could and returned to the Cove and lived there until 1937 when a game of Russian Roulette went fairly wrong."

"Finally, my father, the late Sir Walter Lamb Pasanda, rediscovered the island in 1978 and decked it out with the latest technology and more booze. By this point, there was so much alcohol that the house needed to be extended. When my dear father died in 1981 in a Cold War related incident, he passed the house into the care of my mentor, Sir Montgomery Tuna Mayo, who up until 2009 kept the house in a good state and kitted with the latest technology. I myself have never seen the house, so this is an exciting time for me as well." I finished. I drained my scotch and headed up to the bridge. As I made my way to the stairs, the ship shuddered. I grabbed the railing for safety. Suddenly a ship surfaced off our starboard, gliding out of the water from the depths. The crew began to shout and suddenly grotesque pale men with soggy food fused with their bodies appeared on the deck. I drew my cutlass I had decided to bring in case we were attacked by grotesque pirates with soggy food fused to their bodies and engaged the nearest one in combat. In the corner of my eye, I saw the others doing the same, except from Benson, who was schlurping in his sleep. My opponent had a soggy biscuit merged with his cheek and smelt suspiciously like spunk. I stabbed him in the chest and turned to see three more running towards me! I looked at Fitz and he nodded. We put down our weapons and moved into the middle of the deck, facing outwards at the attackers. They surrounded us and beat their swords menacingly. Then silence fell.

Clunk.

Clunk.

Clunk. 

 A man with huge thick strands of strawberry lace as a beard, a sodden overcoat and a battered trihat and a large bone as a left leg stepped onto the deck. His skin was coated in a grey gloopy liquid.

Gravy Jones.

He laughed a cold, heartless laugh. "Well, well, well. Mister Pasanda. The Locker has been waiting for you..."

"But it shall wait no more." 

TO BE CONTINUED