The Hippo of Indeterminate Hue: Part 2

“Good god!” The detective snatched the card away from the Sergeant, reading it for himself. “You there!” he said, pointing at the young man who’d brought the card. “Bring Mr. von Bueller-Smith-Ashfelt up immediately!”

“Sir,” the young officer said, saluting weakly, and then staggered down the alley, returning a moment later with a 30-ish man in a tuxedo and top hat, who was accompanied by a rather short man carrying a small chalk-board and wearing a red scarf around his neck.

The detective stood up, brushing off his trousers and straightening his tie. “Mr. von Bueller-Smith-Ashfelt?” he said, holding out his hand. “Detective Smitts. It’s an honor to meet you, sir.”

“Likewise,” said von Bueller-Smith-Ashfelt, taking the proffered hand. “This is my manservant, a mute Turk I call Mangrove.”

“My name’s Robert!” said the decidedly non-mute Mangrove, in a distinct London accent.

“Yes,” continued von Bueller-Smith-Ashfelt. “Utterly mute. Can’t speak at all.”

Detective Smitts stared, first at one man and then the other. “I think he just did.”

“Impossible,” said von Bueller-Smith-Ashfelt. “He’s been with me nearly 8-years and he hasn’t uttered a single word the entire time.”

“But-” began the detective, only to be silenced by a raised hand.

“There is more pressing business at hand, is there not?” asked von Bueller-Smith-Ashfelt.

“Uh, yes, sir,” said the detective, glancing at Robert/Mangrove, who just shrugged. “A body found just an hour ago. Rather . . . squished.”

Von-Bueller-Smith-Ashfelt nodded. “As I surmised.” He strode over to the corpse, the waiting officers parting before him. He took only a cursory glance at the body. “Yes,” he said. “The work of the Hippo.”

“The what, sir?” asked the Sergeant.

“The Hippo of Indeterminate Hue,” said von Bueller-Smith-Ashfelt. “The most fiendish ungulate ever to walk this earth. Well,” he amended. “That I am aware of. Certainly, other hippopotami of a criminal bent have appeared throughout history, though I would wager that few matched the Hippo of Indeterminate Hue in either cunning or savagery.”

Detective Smitts stared at the tuxedoed gentleman for a moment. “What?” he finally asked?

Later: A History!

A Memo: Part 2

To: Lord Aragorn, Heir of Isildur
From: Bill, Head of Groundskeeping
Re: Coronation

My Lord,

Let me first congratulate you on your great victory over Sauron and his fell forces. It was truly a magnificent deed that will shine in the songs of Men until the end of our days.

However, the continued requests to clean up the city and its surrounding environs in time for your coronation are patently impossible. My men have cremated almost a thousand bodies and have worked to exhaustion, but they simply cannot work any faster. If we are to remove all the bodies in time for your coronation, we will need the combined armies of Rohan and Gondor to help.

Your humble servant,
Bill, Head of Groundskeeping

To: Lord Aragorn, Heir of Isildur
From: Bill, Head of Groundskeeping
Re: Coronation

My Lord,

While your constant messages are flattering, they are not helping us progress any faster. If your lordship wishes his guests to not notice the piles of corpses I suggest you buy a lot of tents, erect them over the bodies and then spread enough potpourri to fill Mount Doom ‘cause we’re not going to be done.

Your exhausted, increasingly frustrated servant,
Bill, Head of Groundskeeping

To: Lord Aragorn, Heir of Isildur
From: Bill, Head of Groundskeeping
Re: Coronation

My Lord,

Let me tell you a story. It involves trying to move a month-old Oliphant corpse. First, you have to gut it and let all the innards out, being careful not to be crushed by the hundreds of tons of offal or passing out from the smell. Then you have to build scaffolding inside the beast and starting hacking and sawing away. I cannot begin to describe the smell, save to say that I would rather be an orc bathroom attendant for 100 years than spend five minutes inside a dead Oliphant. Not to mention the fact that you get to be literally covered in bits of Oliphant all day and can’t quite get rid of the smell, even after several hours of bathing.

In short: bite me.

Bill, Head of Groundskeeping

To: Whom it may concern,
From: Bill, Head of Groundskeeping
Re: Up Yours

We quit.

We’re tired, we stink, and we’re getting nothing but grief.

If you want everything cleaned up for your coronation, do it yourself. Maybe you should’ve had that undead army tidy up for you before you let them go.

Btb, if you feel the need to arrest us and charge us with treason or something, please do. We could use a break and even jail is better than standing hip deep in rotting offal.

Bill, Ex-Head of Groundskeeping

Cheers,
-Jason

A Memo: Part 1

So, I happened to watch the Return of the King the other day and at the end of the battle in front of Minas Tirith, it occured to me that somebody is going to have to clean all that up. That thought inspired the following:

To: Lord Denethor, Steward of Gondor
From: Bill, Head of Groundskeeping
Re: Bodies

My Lord,

I have recently received orders that the corpses from the recent battle in front of and within Minas Tirith be cleaned up post-haste. I would like to remind your lordship that we number but fifty, while the dead number greater than ten-thousand, not counting the Oliphants.

If my Lord wishes the corpses to be removed in a timely manner, I must ask for more men, preferably in the number of five-thousand.

Your humble servant,
Bill, Head of Groundskeeping

To: Whomever’s in Charge
From: Bill, Head of Groundskeeping
Re: Bodies

My Lord,

I have once again received an urgent missive regarding the state of the corpses decomposing in and in front of our fair city. I must humbly remind your Lordship that we can remove no more than 200 men or orc corpses (or some forty horse carcasses) a day. I cannot begin to imagine how long it will take to remove a single Oliphant!

While the ten additional men you saw fit to assign to us have helped, it will take at least a thousand to make any sort of progress.

May I remind your lordship of the numbers that we must deal with:
6,000+ Orcs
4,000+ Men
1,000+ Horses
200+ Random Trolls, Nazgul Mounts, & Fell Creatures We Cannot Identify
10 Oliphants
Several Hundreds of miscellaneous Squirrels, Cats, Dogs, Wombats, Lawyers, & Street Performers

Your humble servant,
Bill, Head of Groundskeeping

Tomorrow: Part 2 - 'I suggest you buy a lot of potpourri'