The Scientific Investigation Into Whether Sister Sledge Live In The Gravel In My Garden
Day 1 - 22nd May 2000
My name is Vaughan Lloyd III. I am fifty-seven years old. I live in a modest country house in Hertfordshire. I am not married and never have been. I believe that the former pop group Sister Sledge are living in the gravel in my garden. I am NOT mad. I will be assisted by my cleaner Tabatha Bickerstaff. She believes I am mad. She is wrong. Today I begin my investigation.
Day 2 - 23rd May 2000
The rest of yesterday passed without event. This was due mainly to the fact that it was raining and Tabatha refused to go out into the garden. She did agree that she would go out if we wore waterproof clothing and carried umbrellas. I agreed to this. However, after copious searching through the cupboard under the stairs I was only able to find one umbrella. Going into the garden on my own though was not an option as I need Tabatha to carry the golf-bag and the harpoon gun. Today will be spent umbrella shopping in the village.
Day 3 - 24th May 2000
It is 8:43pm. Most of today has passed. I awoke this morning to the dawn chorus and bright sunshine slipping in through the gap in the curtains. After going through the usual morning events I briefed Tabatha on what we would be doing and we went out into the garden. The grass still had dew on it and we got five feet outside before Tabatha, wearing her Wellington boots, slipped and fractured her ankle. Spent the rest of the afternoon sat in casualty with Tabatha. I remained calm despite thoughts of the evil Sledge running amok in my begonias. Tabatha will now have to spend the next few weeks resting so I have asked my brother Edgar to come and visit and assist in the investigation. He arrives tomorrow morning at which point I will brief him and the Sledge-Hunt will begin!
Day 4 - 25th May 2000
Edgar arrived at 9:03am. He too thinks I am mad. He is also wrong. I do not care what he thinks for I know he believes my archaeological hero Indiana Jones to merely be a character in a film played by some actor called Harrison Ford. The fool. His lies are like a bitter taste in my mouth. Still, I will have to ignore his poisonous comments as I now require his help. The evil Sledge must be caught!
At 11:18am we stepped into the garden for the first time. I had decided to leave my blunderbuss in the house as it kept hitting the metal detector and the noise would have attracted the evil Sledge to our presence. Edgar is an idiot. He thought I required the metal detector as I believed the evil Sledge were made of metal. I do not believe the Sledge are made of metal. That is the thought of a mad man. However, I am logical and know the Sledge wear jewellery and watches. It is these items that will betray their location to us.
After two hours in the garden we stumbled upon an ants nest near the shed. I now realise the ants are traitors. They have turned to the Sledge. Despite me asking them they refused to tell me any information regarding the Sledge. I hate them now. I crushed every one of them. Edgar simply looked at me strangely.
After another hour in the garden Edgar suggested we finished searching for the day. I concurred and we went inside. Perhaps tomorrow will bring more luck ?
Day 5 - 26th May 2000
I was woken this morning at 7:30am by Edgar's radio alarm. I had not realised he had brought it with him or I would have confiscated it as soon as he arrived. To make matters worse my greatest fears were realised as it switched on playing 'We Are Family' by the evil Sledge. I ran into his room and smashed the radio with a fire poker. I then shook Edgar, screaming at him for what he had done. It was only when Tabatha entered the room that I realised I had my hands around his throat. However she then hit me on the head with a rolling-pin before I had time to release him.
I awoke some hours later, my head throbbing. Tabatha has since apologised for her actions claiming she only did it because I was out of control. Once again she has displayed she does not understand what must be done to stop the evil Sledge.
Edgar has not spoken to me today. He claims I am insane. I caught him this evening on the telephone. He would not tell me to whom he was speaking. I am growing to distrust him greatly. Tomorrow I will investigate on my own - to hell with the harpoon!
Day 6 - 27th May 2000
Got up early this morning to begin investigating. Spent ten minutes in the garden before I heard someone at the front door. By the time I'd got inside Edgar had already answered the door. It was Dr. Morgan from the village. He said Edgar had called yesterday - so that's who he was talking to - and asked him to call today. I immediately started screaming at Edgar at which point the doctor produced a syringe from his bag and injected me with it.
Day 9 - 30th May 2000
I awoke this day to find myself lying on a bed in a white room. It seems I am in some sort of hospital. Clearly Edgar has portrayed me as some sort of lunatic so he can try and catch the Sledge himself. I immediately gathered my clothes and put them on. A nurse tried to stop me on my way out but after talking to a doctor for an hour or two I convinced him I wasn't mad. I kept the knowledge of the Sledge to myself. He signed me out of what I discovered was called the Merrivale Centre.
Upon my arrival back in the village I found that I had been sedated for several days in the Centre. I cursed Edgar for this for I had missed the Bank Holiday Monday! This is one of the days when the Sledge come out of the gravel and dance and cavort on my lawn. I only hope Edgar wasn't able to ensnare them at this time.
Arriving home I discovered Edgar helping Tabatha with her 'recuperation'. I am no doctor but I know being naked in bed with someone cannot help with a fractured ankle. I told them both to leave and later that evening they did. I informed Edgar and the Bickerstaff-whore that they were never to return again. Tomorrow I will begin my investigation as it should of always been - alone!
Day 10 - 31st May 2000
I spent the morning looking through the back window into the garden with my binoculars. After a few hours there was some movement in the bushes and one of the evil-Sledge appeared. I was able to get my camera and take a photograph of it, however the flash made it disappear again. With the photo though I hope to be able to convince people of their existence and possibly get the army in to destroy them. I must remember to check my insurance policy to see if my garden is covered for being destroyed by military weapons.
I was so delighted at getting my photo that I opened a bottle of gin and spent the rest of the afternoon and evening getting a little bit drunk.
Day 11 - 1st June 2000
And so begins a new month and new hope for the destruction of the evil-Sledge. I have just woken up with a slight headache. Suspect I overindulged a little bit too much last night. Will go and get some breakfast now.....
The b*****ds!!!!!! I have just been downstairs to find the back door slightly ajar and several muddy footprints on the kitchen floor. The camera is gone!!! I will KILL them all!!!! Every last one of them!!!!!
It is now late evening. I have spent the day in the village buying traps and weapons. I will set them tomorrow to catch/kill them. It is now too late to do it and too dark in the garden - far too risky!!! The morning will do.
Day 12 - 2nd June 2000
Got up at 3am this morning and began laying the traps in the garden. By 5am I had finished and went back to bed.
At 7am I was alerted by the perimeter alarm in the garden - silent outside but a loud beep inside. I went downstairs and looked out of the window. Five minutes later I saw brief movement in one of the bushes and then heard what sounded like a muffled scream. I rushed outside.
After pulling back the bushes I found my trap had impaled Mrs.Noodles, Tabatha's cat. Obviously it had had enough of being at Edgar's and had returned to hunt the evil-Sledge with me. Now it was dead. Tsk! I cleaned up the mess, reset the trap and went back to waiting inside.
Two hours later I heard the front door bell ring. When I answered it I found no-one was there. Just several muddy footprints. I then heard glass smash in the back. I rushed back into the house to find the window from the back garden had been smashed. Then I remembered I hadn't closed the front door. When I got back to it I found it had already been closed and several muddy footprints leading into the house - until they reached the doormat, at which point they vanished. They were in the house! The Sledge were in MY house!!!! Oh my God!!!!!
I immediately rushed into the living room to try and find the one thing that could save me. I began furiously searching through my record collection - painfully aware that at any moment I could be attacked. I found it! Now I had a chance. It was the one record that the evil Sledge feared. It was the Peter Gabriel record 'Sledgehammer'. Now I had my weapon. I grasped it in my hand, wielding it like Thor with his hammer. I rushed out into the hall. It was silent. There were no sounds anywhere in the house apart from the Grandfather clock next to me. I noticed something by the door. It was my camera. With it there was a piece of paper. Written on it in what appeared to be blood was the word 'Soon'. I spent the next three hours searching the house before finally deciding they had gone. I boarded up their destruction holes and went to bed.
Day 13 - 3rd June 2000
It is 6:42am. What do you do ? That's got to be the real question here. What do you do when there's a malevolent tribe of evilness living in your garden and anyone you tell about it believes you're mad ? I have decided upon a course of action. I am going to buy a dog. After breakfast I will go into the village and purchase one.
It's now 10:17am. I have been to the village and returned with my new dog. He is a chocolate coloured Labrador. All the potential hell-hounds I had envisaged were not forthcoming from the 'Petty Wetty Pet Shop'. I have decided that my dog's name will be Angoose. There is no logical reason for this and nothing clever about it. It is simply the name I have chosen for him. I also brought another animal whilst at the pet shop. It was the creature that looked most fierce when I was there. This one I am calling Ruddles. His is a duck. I know ducks are not known for being the most predatory of animals but I think he will make an elite death pairing with Angoose. He will lure the Sledge into a false sense of security and then Angoose will rip the buggers to shreds.
It is now 11:06am. A letter arrived for me in the second post. It was from someone called Newman Tonks. It read as follows :
Dear Mr.Lloyd III,
You do not know me but I am familiar with yourself. I know what your current work involves and I fully understand your thankless battle. Three years ago I was too involved in such a war. I survived! I will arrive on the 4th of June which should hopefully be the day after you get this letter. If you would be so kind I would appreciate it if you would meet me at the train station. My train is due to arrive at 9:42am.
We will prevail my friend. Together!!!!!!!
Yours faithfully,
Newman Tonks
Who is this Newman Tonks ? Will he prove to be a key figure in my battle against the Sledge ? I will discover this tomorrow.
The rest of the day passed without event apart from Angoose and Ruddles getting used to their new home.
Day 14 - 4th June 2000
Woke early this morning, eager to discover who Newman Tonks is. I went through my usual ablutions, had breakfast and went to the train station in the village. Got there just before 9:30am and waited until the train arrived.
The train arrived four minutes late. The doors opened and several people got off. One approached me. He looked in his mid-sixties, about 5' 6" tall, slightly balding and wearing spectacles. When he got to me he dropped the two bags he was carrying and embraced me. To say I was shocked was an understatement. The only person I let hug me is my Auntie Wincey and that's only because of the incident with the sewing machine. I shrugged this person off.
He introduced himself as Newman Tonks. He said he was an inventor from Cleethorpes. When I asked how he knew of me he told me it would all become apparent in time. I did not reveal anything of my knowledge of the Sledge to him as he still hadn't said he knew about them either. We exchanged a few brief pleasantries and then went to the car and travelled back to the house.
Once back at the house Newman informed me that he knew all about the Sledge. They had lived in his garden when he was a small boy. No-one had believed him either, not even his parents. For seven years the Sledge had tormented him. He had had no-one to turn to. Newman had his revenge though when at the age of thirteen he had blown up the garden with a previously unexploded grenade he had found in a field near his house. He hadn't known if his actions had rid the garden of the Sledge though as he was knocked unconscious in the blast and had then spent the next few years in a care home. When, at the age of sixteen, he finally returned home he discovered that his actions had indeed rid the garden of the Sledge. However, he had also rid the garden of the garden itself, his parent's house and a couple of the surrounding houses. He knew the Sledge had survived though as they had planted some flowers in the ruins that spelt out 'Twat!'. His parents had left the area and disowned him. Newman was now sixty-two years old and had spent virtually all his life trying to find the Sledge that had ruined his formative years and robbed him of his family. He had trailed them around the country, almost destroying them three years ago and had now heard rumours that they were in my garden. I told him he was right and informed him of recent events.
At last, I had found my a true ally to help me. Newman and I began formulating our plans and it was late evening by the time we had finished. We both retired to bed - different ones!
Day 15 - 5th June 2000
It seems that Angoose has taken a severe dislike to Newman. I found them in the hall this morning. Newman was pinned against a wall with Angoose snarling at him. I reprimanded Angoose and apologised to Newman.
It was during breakfast that the first of the days strange incidents occurred. We heard a tapping at the back-door. When we opened it, brandishing kitchen knives and a whisk, we found that it was Ruddles. He must have been tapping the back-door with his beak. It was in his beak that we suddenly noticed the blooded body of one of the evil Sledge. Ruddles opened his beak and dropped it to the floor. It looked as though he had been trampled to death by some webbed feet. Newman patted Ruddle's head and complimented me on having such a duck that was trained to kill the Sledge. I thanked him, secretly astonished that Ruddles had done this.
We took the dead Sledge body into the house and lay it on the kitchen table. I went and fetched my recently returned camera and was about to take a photo of the former Sledge when it suddenly faded before our eyes until there was nothing to see. Newman prodded the table to see if it had just become invisible but it had indeed just apparently faded out of existence.
Later in the day Newman and I spent several hours reading the copious volumes of 'The Pixie and Sprite Compendium'. Although they are not the same as the Sledge there are certain similarities. It seems that in Pixie folklore there was once a tale of a tribe known as the 'Slej'. This seems too similar in name to the Sledge to be a coincidence. The last known location of the Slej was in the North West Highlands of Scotland. Newman and I decided that before we could fully eradicate the Sledge we must first discover their origins and secrets. We plan to fly to Scotland tomorrow morning. Ruddles and Angoose will remain here and guard the house.
Day 16 - 6th June 2000
After a short flight and a long drive we eventually arrived in the area that had previously been a home of the Sledge before the gravel in my garden. The area is known as Loch na Seilg and can be found on page 103 of a Collins Postcode Atlas (grid reference G3). Loch na Seilg when translated into English becomes Lake of the Sledge.
It was late when we finally got there so we pitched our tents and went to sleep.
Day 17 - 7th June 2000
I was awoken this morning at 3am by strange sounds out on the Loch. It sounded much like ruminating buffalo, a sound I have only previously heard in books. I woke Newman and we got dressed. We were not completely naked anyway and had been in separate sleeping bags! We went outside with our torches on. I'm use it would have been more dramatic to have used the word 'flashlight' but that is an American word and I despise their culture.
The Loch was silent but quite creepy. I would even declare it worthy of having the word 'eerie' used. After spending three minutes debating whether 'ruminating buffalo' was a suitable description for the noise, Newman and I proceeded toward the Loch.
There was a faint glow coming from the middle of the Loch but neither Newman nor myself could determine what it was. As we approached the edge of the Loch we could just make out the outline of what appeared to be a small wooden boat. As we got closer we both noticed a disgusting rotting smell emanating from the boat. I shone my torch inside the boat and then vomited in the Loch. I could not believe what was lying in the boat.
Newman buried Angoose's mutilated body by the side of the Loch whilst I returned to the tent to write this entry in my diary. When I returned outside the glow from the Loch was gone and the noise had stopped. Newman said it had stopped almost as soon as he'd picked up Angoose's body. How had they managed to kill him and transport his body here in such a short space of time? How had they killed him? Why had they? Had Ruddles also fallen victim to the same fate? I vowed to discover the answer to all of the questions. The rest of the day passed without incident although I suspect around these parts the peculiarities will happen after nightfall.
Day 18 - 8th June 2000
2:45am - woken for the second night running by strange sounds over the Loch. Not the ruminating buffalo of the previous night but a more soothing sound this time - quite melodic. Newman and I ventured out of our tent and went exploring again. After about ten minutes of following the noise we stumbled upon its source. I couldn't believe what I was seeing. At first I thought I was still dreaming but I wasn't. Of all things I had anticipated seeing here by the Loch this wasn't one of them.
The moon was full tonight and clearly illuminated the figure. Newman was also stunned but managed to ask me, "Is that really Tasmin Archer?". I nodded, it was. The sound we'd heard was her singing. She was just about to blame us for the moonlit sky when I interrupted her. I asked why she was at this place at this particular time. She told us that she was camped out on the other side of the Loch. She was, however, reluctant to tell us what she was doing there. After we explained our own motives for being there though she opened up a little. She revealed that she too was here tracking the Sledge. She came here twice a year and had done so for the last five years since discovering its existence. She explained that after having her hit single 'Sleeping Satellite' everyone had just assumed she was a one hit wonder and faded into obscurity. The truth was that in fact she had begun to suffer attacks from the Sledge around this time. Being in the public eye she didn't tell anyone about it as they'd think she was going mad from the stress. Instead she spent two years in Mexico before daring to return to England. With renewed confidence and a vendetta against the Sledge for ruining her career she decided to hunt them down, which is why we found her by the Loch trying to lure them out with her singing.
After talking to Tasmin for about an hour there came a bubbling sound from the middle of the Loch. Our torch beams wouldn't extend to the middle of the Loch so we were unable to see what was happening. Soon we saw it though. A giant wave about sixty feet high heading towards us. We all started to run as fast as we could away from the Loch. Behind me I suddenly heard a massive crash as the wave hit the land. I glanced behind me and saw that Newman had fallen. Amazingly the wave stopped behind him, hanging in the air. It seemed to take on the form of a giant fluidic hand before engulfing Newman and dragging him back into the Loch. I just managed to make out Newman's last words before he vanished out of sight, "I've worked it out Vaughan! The Sledge! It's all to do with the mirrors!". Then as quickly as it had happened the Loch was still and silent again. There was no sign of Newman and both Tasmin and I agreed it was too dangerous to dive in and look for him in the darkness. Instead we went back to my tent. We didn't sleep that night but talked.
Day 19 - 9th June 2000
Dawn brought the realisation that Newman was dead. We found his body washed up in the undergrowth. It looked like he'd been severely bent and twisted in the Loch. His spine was contorted and snapped and it looked like his neck was broken too. Tasmin had a satellite 'phone at her camp so she used it to contact the police.
The rest of the day was spent explaining and talking to the police. Apparently the coroner determined the death was totally from water currents and both Tasmin and myself were absolved of all blame. Still, the fact remains that the Sledge have now been responsible for the death of both Newman and Angoose within the last two days. The only bonus from today was when Tasmin informed me she was going to join my quest. She will return to Hertfordshire with me tomorrow. It seems the whole trip here has been one of sorrow and death and not of discovery. It remains to be seen what we will find back home. I only hope Ruddles will still be there alive.
Day 20 - 10th June 2000
Tasmin had got a nice Land Rover with her so instead of flying home we went back by car. As you'd expect we spent all of the day driving home.
Day 21 - 11th June 2000
Arrived back home in the early hours. It was dark and quiet. Such is night. Inside we could just make out a faint glow. I got my gun out of the car and began to walk to the house. Tasmin rummaged in the car and then caught up with me. She was carrying a 64 pack of Crayola crayons. I asked why she'd got these and not a gun. She told me that the Sledge had a fascination with one of the colours of the crayons. Apparently this particular colour doesn't exist in nature, only in the 64 pack of Crayola crayons. The Sledge consider it a magical colour and worship it. They treat it with a great reverence they would only usually reserve for Boney M. For a split second I thought Tasmin was mad but then remembered how others thought the same about me. I decided to give her the benefit of the doubt.
We entered the house. Perfect silence. If silence was graded from A to E with A being the best then this silence would be the A star pupil. We headed towards the source of the glow. It was coming from the dining room. We entered and discovered Ruddles sitting in the middle of the table with a candle by his side. He quacked several times at us and then went to sleep. Upon the floor were several sharp sticks strewn around but no real evidence of anything else being wrong. How had they got to Angoose? After such a long day Tasmin and I decided to retire to bed. Tasmin took the guest bedroom.
Day 22 - 12th June 2000
My name is Ruddles Anchovey. I am twenty-eight years old. I live in a modest country house in Hertfordshire. I am not married and never have been. I am currently a duck. I know that a small tribe known as the Slej are living in the gravel in my garden. I am NOT mad. I shall be assisted by two fools named Vaughan Lloyd III and Tasmin Archer. He returned yesterday with her. I'm unsure what's happened to the Tonks one. Whilst they were gone I had a tremendous battle with the Slej. They broke into the house through the loft. We were unprepared. The dog Angoose was killed quickly. He didn't suffer though. When he saw the Slej he choked to death on a Bonio. I managed to kill virtually all of them as their sharp sticks were not effective weapons. As the Slej found out, webbed feet are not only useful for swimming - they can be used as weapons of mass crushing destruction too. The few remaining ones ran but took Angoose's body with them for some reason. As usual they vanished when killed so all the fools saw when they came back was myself and the sharp sticks. I had been forced to stay awake for the rest of the time they were gone to prevent further surprise attacks. I was exhausted so as soon as they walked in I collapsed into sleep. If you're still wondering about the candle, well, that's a story for another time.
Sometime - Anytime
My name used to be Angoose. I was four years old. I lived briefly in a modest country house in Hertfordshire. I was not married. I was a dog, a Labrador - chocolate coloured. I didn't really know much when I was alive. Now I do and I know what happened. Some small people took my body and hacked it up. Then they took it to Scotland and left it there for my last master to find. Well, now I'm dead. It's not ideal but at least now I know how things end.
Day 23 - 13th June 2000
Woke up early this morning and tried consulting with the ants again. Still they refuse to answer me. This was their last chance. They are all dead now. Boiling water has hopefully provided a final cathartic experience for them for which they are now sorry about their silence.
Found a most curious thing this afternoon in the Study. Several sheets of paper covered in muddy webbed footprints. Ruddles must have trodden all over them after being outside. I threw them in the bin then tried to see if I could get him to explain what happened whilst we were gone. I know it's unlikely that a duck will be able to communicate with me (I realise he's not an ant) but it's worth a try.
Day 23 - 13th June 2000
The bastard! The total and utter bastard! It took me ages to do that journal entry yesterday. It's not easy to find wet mud in Spring and then he just throws my journal in the bin. Because of this I refused to answer any of his questions.
Day 23 - 13th June 2000
I knew I was being a little optimistic asking Ruddles. He was unable to provide any answers. Clearly I had credited him with too much intelligence. He is obviously just a normal duck - although quite feisty. He sat there the whole time looking at me without uttering a word. After two minutes he quacked at me and then waddled off.
I'm not sure what to do next with regards the Sledge. I shall spend the rest of the day with Tasmin. We shall discuss our options.
Day 24 - 14th June 2000
I was awoken early this morning by a knock at the door. When I went down and opened the door I found a young fellow standing there. He said he could help me, that he knew things. It seems his name is Patrick O'Mulligan. He had travelled all the way from Ireland after hearing from uncertain sources that the Sledge were here. I let him in and we spent the majority of the morning talking.
I learned that the famed Leprechauns of Irish Legend were in fact the Sledge. Apparently they left the Irish shores for England seventy years ago. The Irish had used some creative license since, hence the green outfits, pots of gold and rainbows. Patrick had been fascinated by the tales since he was a child. His grandmother had encountered them once so the truth and been passed down throughout his family. Now he had come to find them. I told Patrick he was quite welcome to join our quest and sent him upstairs to unpack.
It was later in the day that I remembered the dream I'd been having when I'd been woken by Patrick's knocking. The morning had passed so quickly I'd forgotten about it. In the dream I'd been inside a square cage. All of the walls were mirrored apart from one, this was made of glass. The view outside from inside was what I can only imagine would be what a fish would see if it looked out of it's aquarium - watery and blurred. All I could make out was what could only be a set for a T.V. game show. As I watched the vision started to clear and a shape approached my cage. It reached the cage and I realised it was Les Dawson. "You can't have my Blankety Blank Cheque Book and Pen yet Vaughan. No, not yet Sir. Time will show whether it will be you or the other you," he said. Then I was awoken. What on earth could it mean?
Spent the rest of the day exchanging knowledge about the Sledge with Tasmin and Patrick. Ruddles sat on the headrest of my chair. He seemed to be paying a great deal of attention.
Day 25 - 15th June 2000
I woke this morning and looked out of my window that faces the back garden. I wondered for a moment whether I had gone insane or whether there really was a giant 14th century gothic castle just behind the washing line. After rushing downstairs and out into the garden I found Ruddles already outside glaring at it. A few seconds later it started to glisten like sunlight on an early morning mist and then faded away.
Over breakfast I informed Tasmin and Patrick of what Ruddles and I had seen. Patrick said that this very castle had been witnessed across parts of Ireland over the last few centuries but everyone who had seen it had died mysteriously less than two weeks later. A single thought entered my head at that moment 'Bugger!'.
Day 25 - 15th June 2000
I have just been listening over breakfast to the idiots talking. The Irish one informed the other two that everyone who's seen the castle has died within two weeks. As I was the first to see it before the main fool ran out and it vanished I can only assume I may be the first to die. I wonder though whether it only affects humans or my current duck form will protect me from any curse - should there really be one. I shall hide this paper under the rhododendrons outside so hopefully the main idiot won't find it.
Day 25 - 15th June 2000
After explaining to Patrick and Tasmin about this mornings incidents and hearing Patrick's chilling news another strange thing happened. This particular peculiarity arrived with the post. It was a letter. My address was written on the envelope in what appeared to be crayon. I opened it to find the following letter :
Dear Mr. Lloyd III,
I know you will be wondering why the address was written in crayon. That is all they will let me have. I know you will be wondering who I am. My name is Alabaster Coldsorr. My great-grandfather was French but please continue reading. I currently reside in 'The Montgomery Care Home' in Luton. I cannot write here the things I know because the crayons are not big enough and I will run out soon.
I urge you to visit me and I will tell you all I know - including why you saw the castle this morning. Yes, that's right. I know that too. Unless of course this letter is delayed by Royal Mail in which case you saw it yesterday.
Come to Luton as soon as possible. I urge you again. I cannot last here much longer and you must help me and I must help you.
Kind Regards,
Alabaster Coldsorr.
The fact he knew about the castle interested me greatly. Patrick, Tasmin and I packed immediately and began our drive to Luton. Ruddles remains in the house to guard it.
Day 26 - 16th June 2000
Arrived in Luton late yesterday evening. At a local service station we determined the location of 'The Montgomery Care Home' from the attendant and purchased an A-Z Road Atlas to find out how to get there. We checked into a nearby Travelodge and slept like otters (we all had separate rooms!).
Bright and early we set off to the Home to find Mr. Coldsorr. After about an hours drive we arrived there. A brief discussion ensued in which we managed to convince the elderly orderly that we were Mr. Coldsorr's relatives. He agreed to let us see him and we went through to the patients day room.
Mr. Coldsorr was approximately eighty years of age but still possessed crazed ginger hair. He was quite plump and held an ear trumpet to his ear throughout our entire conversation, which went something like this :
"Mr. Coldsorr, my name is Vaughan Lloyd III. I believe you sent me a letter"
"Lloyd.....Lloyd.....letter?........Lloyd?......letter?.....err.....Lloyd.....oh yes!"
"How did you know about the castle?"
"Castle?.......musky bones, no, who's that?....the castle!......erm....'s obvious"
"Why exactly?"
"Because I am you Vaughan!"
"Sorry?"
"I'm you in the year 2028!"
"B*llocks!"
"Yeah, fair enough. I just thought it sounded dramatic"
"So how did you know about the castle"
"Vaughan, I am a shaman. I possess knowledge and can see things that others of this
world cannot. However, alas, I am unable to leave this Home"
"So things really went downhill after Ebeneezer Goode?"
"No, Vaughan. I know you are a prat but please understand. Shaman as in wise man"
"Oh right. Sorry. So why can't you leave here?"
"I can, but only via my astral body. I am too old and weak now to leave normally"
"So how can we help you?"
"Help me to die!"
"Die?"
"Well, sort of. I have developed a special way I can transfer my soul so I may leave
this body forever and go on"
"Is that not just death?"
"No, I can transfer it elsewhere and continue in this plane of existence"
"If we can Mr. Coldsorr, we will. But can you help us too?"
"I can Vaughan, but only when I have left here"
"Tell us what we need to do"
Mr. Coldsorr then explained the process and ritual we must undertake to help him. Tasmin went to the shops to get the HobNobs and the candles whilst Patrick and myself helped prepare Mr. Coldsorr.
Day 26 - 16th June 2000
The idiots have left so I'm now in the house on my own. I have been on constant patrol since they left but there has, as yet, been no sign of the Slej although there is an eerie quiet about the garden. I will remain awake as long as I can.
Day 27 - 17th June 2000
Yesterday didn't go quite as planned. Mr. Coldsorr had given Tasmin the task of reading an ancient incantation from a mystical book. It wasn't until afterwards we noticed Patrick had spilt a bit of Vimto on the book which had slightly smudged one of the words. Who would have thought that reading 'Bizkeetus' instead of 'Bixkitus' would have resulted in Mr. Coldsorr's soul being transferred into a HobNob biscuit instead of the MagnaDoodle as was originally intended. The MagnaDoodle was the best Tasmin could come up with whilst down the shops and she reasoned it to be a suitable means for Mr. Coldsorr to be able to communicate once his soul was inside. Mr. Coldsorr had called her 'extremely inventive'. Patrick and I had suggested he transfer his soul to something like a bird or a horse, the latter being Patrick's idea. Mr. Coldsorr had said that as a shaman it wouldn't be karmic (which personally I don't think is a word anyway) for him to take over the body of another being as their soul would be displeased.
I now wonder how viable it will be for Mr. Coldsorr to communicate with us now. How am I ever going to find out the truth about the castle? I'm beginning to feel like my life is just some crazy rollercoaster being controlled by an evil puppet master.
Patrick, Tasmin and I will spend the rest of the day at the Home trying to resolve this problem and inform the staff of Mr. Coldsorr's death. First though we better tidy up the candles, Vimto bottles, mystic books and Playdoh.
Day 28 - 18th June 2000
It's been three days since the idiots left. It's now late evening and I have worrying news. A mist descended in the garden mid-afternoon and as it grew later in the day I could make out the faint glimmer of flame from hundreds of tiny torches. As it became darker I heard the chanting begin. I can now see that a mass of figures is slowly approaching the house. It seems the Slej are finally going to attack. I will do all I can. If anything should happen to me I will quickly conceal this last sheet of paper under the rhododendrons with the others so people may know what happened. If here it must be then here I will have my last stand.
Day 30 - 20th June 2000
I have been unable to write in my diary for the last few days as it was confiscated along with my other possessions whilst Patrick, Tasmin and myself were embroiled in a murder investigation with the Luton police force. The police in this area are extremely unreasonable. Okay, perhaps they did find Mr. Coldsorr with candle wax coating his eyeballs and oesophagus and a pentagram etched into his chest. And maybe it looked a tiny bit suspicious when they found the sewing needles skewering his toes, but in our defence we simply didn't have time to locate and purchase proper acupuncture pins. Even though I felt it was unfair of them not to release us when I finally explained Mr. Coldsorr wasn't really dead and that his soul was actually contained in the biscuit in my pocket. Still, the tests they performed at the Home on the second day proved that we weren't clinically insane. I guess when you know it's the truth the specialist comes to accept it as well. I'll remember his face as he bit into his hand and started gibbering until my dying day.
Our time in the detention cells has also been fruitless as Mr. Coldsorr (biscuit) was also confiscated from me so I was unable to try and communicate further with him. Eventually the police decided it was really suicide and let us go free this afternoon.
I wonder how Ruddles is back at the house. Have the Sledge attacked again? I was only anticipating us being away for a day at the most. We shall find out later what has happened in our absence.
Day 30 - 20th June 2000
I have never been as frightened as the first time I met Baowijn McCakel. He was the one at the front. The leader. He was indeed a Slej and definitely the most awesome I had ever seen. I won't describe him fully as this is a diary, not a story, but suffice to say that the term 'brick shit house' wouldn't have done him justice, although it would have had to have been a really small one anyway. He had long dishevelled hair, a bit like a tramp. You wouldn't have been surprised to see someone like him standing on a war memorial in a cemetery shouting obscenities to passers-by. Imagine William Wallace combined with Wurzel Gummidge - that is Baowijn McCakel.
I had not run from the Slej so Baowijn walked right up to me. He paused in front of me before uttering, in the Slej language I had learned four years ago, the words I would never forget, "Any chance of a brew? It's a bit cold out here in all this mist".
Day 10,445 - 25th December 2028
I have been given such a fantastic present for Christmas. My name is Vaughan Lloyd IV. I am twenty-seven years old. I live in a modest country house in Hertfordshire. I am married. My present is a book written by a close friend of the family Nicholas Anchovey. It is a compilation of various diaries written nearly thirty years ago about my father and a group of friends of his. Although extremely unusual it is all apparently true. I read the first few pages after lunch and have just settled down into bed to read more before I go to sleep. I had got up to the 20th of June 2000. I shall continue......
Day 30 - 20th June 2000
Baowijn, or Wijn as he liked to be called, was actually quite pleasant. I had thought he would be as evil and annoying as all of the previous Slej I'd met were - I was wrong. Wijn informed me that he was a rival faction of the Slej known as the Per'se. They were considered outcasts by the Slej having declared that the Slej were evil and that they wanted no part of it. The Per'se now travelled the lands hunting the Slej trying to stop their diabolical deeds.
Wijn told me that the Per'se had been observing my battles with the Slej and considered I would make a worthy ally. They said the way I commanded the idiots was impressive - sending them out on reconnaissance whilst I stayed to fight. I thanked them and agreed we should join together in our fight. I informed Wijn that he could use the spare bedroom for him and his men as a base. Luckily the Slej/Per'se are quite small so the bedroom was just big enough for Wijn and his one hundred and forty eight Per'se warriors.
I'm not sure how the idiots will react to this. The Per'se do not speak English and I know the idiots do not speak Slej. I speak Slej but I'm also a duck so cannot translate to the idiots. The future of our battle against the Slej will depend entirely on the first few minutes when the idiots return and how they react to finding one hundred and forty nine of the Per'se in the back bedroom. Hopefully they will react with a degree of calm and common sense. Hmmm....
Day 31 - 1st July 2000
OH MY GOD!!!!!! The Sledge are in my house......AGAIN!!!!!!! We got back to find that they were upstairs with no signs of obvious entry. Luckily I had heard their scampering whilst downstairs and had picked up my blunderbuss. I made Tasmin wait downstairs with Mr. Coldsorr (Hobnob) whilst Patrick and I went upstairs. Patrick had fashioned a deadly lasso using a kettle lead and several tea-towels tied together so I felt we were well prepared for a battle.
We crept across the landing and determined that the noise was coming from the back bedroom. Through the crack in the door I could make out a few hundred Sledge crowded around in a circle with Ruddles in the centre quacking in peril. Patrick and I burst into the room. I fired a round from my blunderbuss at the Sledge but they parted like the Red Sea. Patrick had better luck though, managing to get several with his pseudo-lasso. In a swift movement he also managed to hurl them out of the window. Ruddles must have been startled by all the commotion because he flew out of the crowd straight at me causing me once more to miss with the blunderbuss and hit Patrick in the ankle. Ruddles started quacking again as Patrick screamed in pain and fell to the ground as the Sledge began to swarm towards him. Quickly I loaded my blunderbuss again and was about to take several of their heads off when another gunshot sounded behind me and the bullet blew away the light fitting, which landed on Patrick's head knocking him unconscious. I turned, blunderbuss ready, to face my new adversary.
Day 31 - 1st July 2000
B*llocks! Best laid plans and all that. The idiots returned. I have now upgraded the old saying to a bulldozer in a china shop. In my scenario the main idiot is the bulldozer and the china shop is the fragile alliance I have just created. I was just outlining a few of the fine details with them when in he came, firing shots at the Per'se, which they all managed to avoid. Then the Irish one managed to catch some of them and hurl them out the window. The Idiot King, as he shall now be known, was then about to fire again but I managed to fly up at him and cause him to miss - resulting in much pain for the Irish one. I quickly called to the Per'se to use some of their magic to remove his pain but as they approached, the Idiot King tried to line up another shot. He was distracted however by another shot which indirectly turned the light fitting into an anaesthetic, making the Irish one forget his pain.
I turned to the door from which the shot had originated and was shocked to see my younger brother, Nicholas, standing there with a gun.
Day 31 - 1st July 2000
I pointed the blunderbuss directly at the man's abdomen and was about to fire, when he spoke.
"Wait. I'm not your enemy. I'm here to help you and my brother in your battle against the Slej"
"Your brother? Oh, so you're an O'Mulligan too?"
"O'Mulligan? No, my name's Anchovey. Nicholas Anchovey"
"Anchovey? I don't know another Anchovey"
"You do. Mortimer"
"I don't know a Mortimer"
"Oh, well, perhaps you know him by his nickname, Ruddles"
"The DUCK!?!?"
"Technically, yes"
"Your brother is technically a duck?"
"Yes. Although I know people who'd quote you for saying something like that"
"So you're a human but your brother's a duck? Was your father some sick pervert?"
"Lord Crispin Anchovey? A sick pervert? How dare you?"
"You can understand me questioning it though can't you?"
"Well, I guess so"
"So perhaps you can explain"
"Okay, take a seat"
"BUT WE'RE SURROUNDED BY SLEDGE!!!"
"These guys? Hi Wijn. They're Per'se, not Slej"
"Riiiiight. I'll sit down. You explain. I'll listen"
Nicholas went on to explain all about the Per'se and the Sledge. I discovered he could also speak the Sledge language so he was able to translate whilst I spoke to the Per'se called Baowijn. I learned much about the history of the Sledge/Per'se but even Baowijn couldn't tell me the origins of them. He said he was relatively young still at three hundred and eight so hadn't been entered into the circle of elders yet to be given what the Sledge called G'branae Slejrana, the Genesis of The Sledge. After Baowijn and I had talked I then asked Nicholas to explain how his brother, elder apparently, was a duck.
Day 32 – 2nd July 2000
I have decided that I would place yesterday amongst the oddest days I have ever had. Considering that I am a Sledge hunter that is quite a bold statement. Still, I now know the truth about Ruddles. Was it coincidence that I brought him from the ‘Petty Wetty Pet Shop’ or did fate conspire to bring us together? Perhaps I will never know.
I did find out the truth about how Nicholas and Ruddles were brothers though. It seems back in 1986 Mortimer and Nicholas had been sitting at home enjoying a particularly dull football match during the Mexican World Cup between Canada and some other team. In the 56th minute a brick had come crashing through the window and knocked Nicholas out. Seconds later fifteen Sledge hurtled through the hole in the glass. Mortimer instinctively tried to protect his younger brother but eventually the numbers got the better of him. One of the Sledge elders then turned Mortimer into a penguin using ancient magic whilst the rest of the evil band took off with Nicholas. Apparently today was only the second time since that day that the brothers had been in the same room as one another.
I asked Nicholas about what had happened after he had been taken by the Sledge but he would not tell me. He said it was the secrets he’d gathered during that time that couldn’t be told to anyone else – not until they were needed. He wouldn’t even tell me where they’d taken him. I also tried to ask Ruddles, his preferred name apparently, via Baowijn and Nicholas translating how he’d eventually transformed once more from a penguin to a duck. Ruddles said that this too was a story for another day. I shall therefore ask him tomorrow.
I have spent most of today converting the garage into a temporary home for the Per’se. Although they are used to living outdoors Baowijn has decided that his clan need rest and peace for a few days before we will move on. I asked Baowijn where we would be going but he would not tell me.
Day 32 – 2nd July 2000
I have spent much of today catching up with my brother Nicholas. I was most surprised when he appeared today but never the less pleased. He entertained the Per’se and me for hours with tales of his adventures over the last few years. Whilst we all talked we watched the Idiot King rearranging the garage. Although he is a fool I do find him most entertaining. Sometimes I feel I would laugh out loud at some of his antics but it’s quite hard to do that with a duck face.
Day 33 – 3rd July 2000
I was awakened by a tapping at my bedroom door at 2:47am this morning. Thinking it may be a Sledge attack I picked up my blunderbuss but was surprised to encounter Tasmin when I opened the door. She told me that she felt her quest for vengeance against the Sledge lay in a different direction to the one we were heading in and had decided to leave. We both wished each other luck and I promised Tasmin I would explain to the others in the morning the reason for her night time disappearance.
Day 33 – 3rd July 2000
The Idiot King told us this morning that the female, apparently called Tasmin, left in the night. If I didn’t know he was so stupid I’d almost believe he’d killed her and hidden the body. For him I’m sure this would be akin to hiding a whale under a handkerchief. He just wouldn’t be able to do it.
The Per’se have spent the day in a meditative trance, apparently renewing their power and focus for the quest ahead. I’ve been playing snakes and ladders with Nicholas whilst the Idiot King has been trying to teach the Irish one how to put broken clocks together.
Day 36 – 6th July 2000
We have spent the last few days resting and preparing our plans for our quest. Patrick left yesterday as he received a ‘phone call from Ireland informing him there was a problem with some of his family’s horses. So, the only people remaining on our quest now are Ruddles, Nicholas, Alabaster (in HobNob form), Baowijn and his Per’se clan and myself. Although smaller in numbers now I believe our resolve to defeat the Sledge has grown. Nicholas has told us that before he’d arrived here he had been investigating some Sledge sightings in Weston-Super-Mare. He believes that this is where we should begin our quest. I have purchased a camper van in which we shall all drive there in. Nicholas felt it would be a bit overt to be travelling around in a car with two humans, a biscuit, a duck and one hundred and forty-nine Per’se in the back of it. This is a very good point. All of the Per’se will fit nicely into the back of the van.
Tomorrow we shall begin our journey. I hope we will discover some more truth along the way. There are so many questions to be answered at the minute but it is clearly a very exciting time to be alive.
Day 37 - 7th July 2000
We have spent the majority of today travelling to Weston in the camper van. I am
unsure as to what Nicholas expects us to find there as he
won't tell me. He will only tell Ruddles and Baowijn. I feel I should be told
but don't want to anger Nicholas at present.
We didn't
arrive in Weston until just after midnight. Mainly due to the fact we had to
stop so often for toilet/vomit trips. Such is the problem
when you travel with one hundred and forty nine Per'se.
Day 38 - 8th July 2000
I have decided that if we stay in Weston longer than today then I shall be
hiring a room. The morning aroma of a camper van containing so many
sweaty Sledge is most unpleasant. Nicholas took us down to the beach late
afternoon. He said something important was happening near the pier regarding the
Sledge.
When we got there Nicholas instructed the Per’se to go into the sea and surround the pier. Only Baowijn remained with us. He and I waited on the beach whilst Nicholas and Ruddles went up to the pier. Alabaster had remained in the camper van.
It is very difficult to remain inconspicuous on a beach with a blunderbuss and a member of the Per’se. In an attempt to blend in I buried both under a sand castle, leaving only Baowijn’s eyes peeping out.
After two hours of waiting, and several confused looks from passers-by at my sand castle sneezing sand, I received a signal from Nicholas. Basically he threw an ice cream at my head. I put my telescopic sights to my eyes and could make out a dark figure in a big overcoat and hat – like you’d imagine a stereotypical Private Investigator. I saw Nicholas approach the figure from one direction and Ruddles from the other. As they reached him there was a flash of what can only be described as dark light (a flash of darkness where the air around got darker and you couldn’t see) and all three vanished.
Baowijn and I were quite stunned by this. Despite vigorous searching we were unable to find them on the pier despite three hours of searching. The Per'se even searched all the surrounding water but found nothing. I can only hope they are both alive and well somewhere. But where?
Day 42 - 12th July 2000
Several days have now passed since last I wrote in my diary. We have spent the last four days trying to determine what happened to Nicholas and Ruddles. However, we are still at a loss to explain their disappearance. Who was the dark figure? I do not know. Yet!
Another problem I face is that my two great Sledge experts, Nicholas and Ruddles, have now been taken away from me. Furthermore, there was the fact that only Nicholas could understand the Per'se. Baowijn and I have developed a rudimentary sign language to remove this barrier. It seems to be working quite well surprisingly!
Day 42 - 12th July 2000
This is my first diary entry. I have got the idea from the Idiot King, as Ruddles called him. My name is Baowijn McCakel. I am three-hundred and eight years old. I live, at present, in a cramped smelly camper van. It's all going wrong! Nicholas and Ruddles have vanished leaving me with the Idiot King, one-hundred and forty eight of my clan and a biscuit. The Idiot King continues to annoy me. Somehow he knows the old Per'se signage language. Presently he has called my mother a whore, said that he's a large rectangular lipstick and declared his love for all that is cheese. I suspect that he is making it up as he goes along though. He is fully deserving of his Idiot King title!
Day 42 - 12th July 2000
We have decided to leave Weston and I will drive back home. There we will gather our troops and our gusto again and determine how best to proceed. Baowijn seems to understand me better and better as the day goes on!