So, the professor was at another party.
And I was armed.
With my new Lakonia-Sword.
People were everywhere—buzzing here, and buzzing there.
And that’s when Daddy Salami came up, laughing.
“Do ya see that clock in the middle of the table over there?” he asked, pointing.
“The ugly one?”
Salami nodded. “That horribly ugly one. It’s being powered…by me clock part!”
And then I winked twice. “Good job!”
“Ya don’t get it, cur-brain. It was stolen from me—the part that’s powering it! Dr. Zauberer stole it from me clock, which isn’t working now!”
“Well, let’s get it back, I say.”
So the professor and Salami moved over to the clock.
It was truly an ugly specimen: completely black and full of worm holes. Real worm holes, mind you. Like pink worm holes, for instance.
“I bet that part is destroyed by now,” I whispered to Salami.
He grunted. “It better not be!”
With one fluid motion, Salami ripped the backdoor of the clock clean off its hinges!
We had a bit of an audience now, and this professor was wondering about my foresight. This is the sort of thing one should avoid at all costs. Never get involved in.
Too late now.
“I say!” Dr. Zauberer yelled as he made his way to where we were. “What are you doing to my clock, beast?” Dr. Zauberer ripped the door from Salami’s grasp and held it to his chest defensively.
“I’m getting me part back!” Salami said.
“The part your head is missing won’t be found in there!” Dr. Zauberer returned.
Then Mr. Ratherquite stepped up. “What is going on here?”
“This fellow here,” Dr. Zauberer began, indicating Salami with his thumb, “is trying to vandalize my clock.”
“Sir!” Mr. Ratherquite scolded. “None of that!”
And as Salami’s hand reached forth to search the back of the clock, it was hit aside by Mr. Ratherquite.
Salami gasped. “Don’t hit me, cur-trout!”
“Dadblameit!” Dr. Zauberer shouted.
“Dadblameit!” the professor seconded. Can’t be outdone, you know.
Then, Dr. Zauberer reached his spindly arm into the back of the clock. To everyone’s amazement, his hand didn’t reemerge with a clock part or two, but rather a derringer!
“That’s enough of this whole thing, or else, bam!” He was waving the gun about madly.
“Ya mean…me clock part isn’t in the back of the clock?!” I don’t think Salami could believe it.
Dr. Zauberer shook his head. “No. I couldn’t get it to work. So, I threw that part in the stream. Ghastly piece of machinery.”
Salami jumped on Dr. Zauberer, and I went for the gun. I sort of got the gun in time, but it still went off and hit Mr. Ratherquite in the thigh.
That’s what you call a part-save.
Of course, since we were in Dr. Zauberer’s castle, he won. He had the party disbanded immediately. I’m not sure what happened to Daddy Salami.
I believe Mr. Ratherquite was taken to a hospital.
My mind was messed up that night.
It was either to a hospital or an ice cream parlor.