The man at the pub proposed to detail the secret history of the famous Melbournian cat burglar, currently targeted by officials, beginning with her first theft from the stalwart people of Militaires Sans Frontieres to other famous historical acts of burglary depicted in the papers, including the Great White Diamond Horde, which was allegedly where “The Cat” met her lothario sidekick, “Rasputin,” who came up with the idea to steal from the first flying blimp restaurant, where Italy’s darling opera singer Rosetta Vellotti, whose first splash was as a street musician, had had stolen her ruby crusted necklace, which was on loan to her from the Arch Duke of Cheshire, who was out hunting near the lake at Westinthrope House, when The Cat and Rasputin snuck in to his family’s longstanding home to take from it the last surviving portrait of the 15th century rosicrucian Asla Gargal Vanlouse – who had killed himself in a fit of heretic rage – and then escaped the House’s expansive grounds under the cover of pale moonlight, flickering shadows at every twist and turn to throw off the dogs and keepers, who themselves complained about how the thieves had stolen the dog’s leashes as well as two chickens, a quarter pint of milk and a young squire’s arm hair, which, of course, had to be a lie, because the chief keeper kept covered his hairy left arm, which seemed to have a bald spot all of a sudden, and which the bald spot had stolen from it some skin particles, mind you… And the ramble didn’t finish for a good while, but by then it was morning.
Fictional Man 1 Minute
Published by Fictional Man
No single work did more to question the conventions than what you now read. Welcome to my world. View all posts by Fictional Man