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COMPETITION

Mystery dozen

J aspistos

IN COMPETITION NO. 1900 you were invited to incorporate a dozen given words and phrases into a plausible piece of prose.

What was the mysterious factor they all had in common? Not that they are all in the dictionary, as one of you hopefully haz- arded, but that they all contain three con- secutive letters of the alphabet. A dozen and a half right answers were received, but the first envelope with the solution to be opened was Jill Watson's, so she gets the £5 lottery prize.

The prizewinners, printed below, take £20 each, and the bonus bottle of Isle of Jura Single Malt Scotch whisky goes to Nicholas Hodgson.

Despite the outward calmness, inwardly the Queen was sighing. During the National Anthem — the twenty-first performance she had heard that month — she had thought, again, 'One's no expert on hymnology, but "Queen", "Queen" and "Queen" doesn't seem a very deft rhyme- scheme.' Over the beef goulash at lunch she had wondered why the mayor's wife felt she had to wear her best costume. Why not a dayglo pink

leotard? And why did they all say 'Your Majesty' and 'Ma'am'? She longed to be addressed as `Pussy-vvuggles' or 'my darling dabchick'. Why, indeed, did everything go smoothly? Why couldn't someone hijack her for a change? And now, she was inspecting each electronic device which the armaments factory produced. They were all top-quality, said the chairman. Well, he would say that, wouldn't he? Then she noticed a box. 'Leave unopened,' it said. 'Do not open.'

The Queen opened it.... (Nicholas Hodgson)

The Mole lay on the river-bank, sighing content- edly as grebe, coot and dabchick, up-tails all, enjoyed the sunshine. The calmness was inter- rupted by Rat, in plus-fours and Norfolk jacket.

'I say, Ratty,' said Mole, 'that's a super outfit.'

'My travelling costume,' replied Rat, 'top- quality kit. Now look: Toad's done a bunk again. Badger's busy with 'Hymnology for Smaller Animals', and won't help. I know we had him

tagged, but an electronic device won't stop Toady. Remember how he tried to hijack a brewer's dray for some weasel's twenty-first? He'll be down the Amphibian's Arms scoffing beef goulash and porter. Now, here are your instructions.' He thrust an envelope into Mole's paw, and bounded off.

The Mole turned the letter over, looked at the ducks, then with a cry of 'Hang Toad!' hurled it, with a deft movement, unopened, into the sparkling current. (Martin Woodhead) Bathurst dated his interest in hymnology from the Peruvian Airways hijack of 1987. He'd been on his way to read a paper on dabchick infertility rates at the Thventy-First Colloquium Ornithol- ogicum in Lima. But as his plane landed, a neighbour in cowboy costume stood up and announced that the electronic device in his hand was keyed into enough explosive to turn the plane's human contents into imitation beef goulash. He demanded a flight to Laramie and a gross of top-quality jeans.

After some hysteria an eerie calmness pre- vailed, only broken, Bathurst recalled, by some soulful sighing. Catching its rhythm, he began to hum 'Abide With Me'. Others gradually joined in. Words, in a variety of languages, were added as hymn followed hymn. Soon the hijacker him- self was singing along. Bathurst, seeing his chance, plucked the device away with one deft movement. It was a tin of sardines: unopened.

(W.J. Webster)

With a deft movement of his fork David chased the last fragment of beef goulash round his plate, and calmness reigned. Not for long, however, as he caught sight of the new book, so far unopened, lying on the sideboard. His host noticed the glance. 'I know you're interested in hymnology,' he murmured as David, sighing, picked up the gaudy volume. 'Hymnology!' snorted David. 'Hijack a top-quality writer — Wesley, say, or Watts — and turn him into milk and water. How does the twenty-first psalm go? "They imagined a mischievous device." I'll say they do; in this case, I suppose, an electronic device which picks out all the good old words like "Paraclete" or "consub- stantial" and substitutes sentimental rubbish. Might as well' — he paused for inspiration 'might as well put a bathing costume on a dabchick: unnatural, ridiculous, even murder-

ous.' (Mary Holtby)

The Hungarian Airways stewardess, resplendent in national costume, demonstrated safety proce- dures in a series of deft movements. With studied calmness I engaged the dog-collared gentleman beside me in a conversation about hymnology and the prosodic qualities of the twenty-first psalm. Then, sighing exaggeratedly, I feigned sleep until the arrival of a top-quality beef goulash. Everything was going smoothly — too smoothly, perhaps. Nervously I checked the elec- tronic device concealed up my left nostril. The clergyman eyed me with mild disgust. I drew from my pocket the unopened letter which would tell me precise details of the hijack attempt I was to foil. 'The Slavonian grebe', it began, 'is slightly larger than the little grebe, or dabchick.' I stared blankly. The fools had used the wrong code! 'Ah!' broke in my neighbour chummily. 'A fellow

ornithologist!' (Peter Norman)

'Be good,' they had told me, 'and you'll have your favourite beef goulash, made from top- quality meat.' Sighing, I agreed to go with them to church. A faulty electronic device in the minister's public address system made his announcement of the twenty-first hymn incomprehensible, except to my aunt. With a deft flick of the pages she located the place in my book but left her own resolutely unopened, to show how well she knew the entire hymnology. It was her irritating prac- tice to hijack the singing. My hour had come. With the furtiveness of a dabchick taking to the water, and displaying remarkable calmness, I transferred my matchbox collection of spiders to the edges of her costume. Till that moment I had never seen a true arachnophobe.

(Frank McDonald)

No. 1903: Imaginary conversation

Sam Goldwyn once invited Freud, whom he reckoned 'the greatest love specialist in the world', to write the script of a love story for the screen. A meeting was mooted but did not occur. You are invited to supply the dialogue of the interview that never was. Maximum 150 words. Entries to 'Competi- tion No. 1903' by 12 October.