Sorry :-(Follow

I wan't going to post this here as it's, well, sort of embarassing.

But I thought it might be cathartic to ******* this forum with my problem and see if the Arsylumites (or as Moebius calls them, "we") can offer their usual supportive and well thought-out suggestions.

See, I've accidentally (I promise it wasn't intentional) destabilised the quantum of the space-time continuum.

It was a typical Friday evening. An Antelope had materialised in my bath (annoying enough, you might think) and it had this strange Bolivian accent, and a cleft palate so all the S's were Sh's. You know the sort of thing. Both of the servants were away (I'd given them the night off to go see the Allakhazam v Hilary Clinton Fight in Zimbabwe) so the house felt pretty empty.

So I'm trying to watch TV (A documentary about documentaries about Reality TV animations) and all the time there's this constant "Grashiash por el baño Sheñor" vibe from the bathroom. Each commercial break I'd saunter over to the bath and insert more dampened toilet paper into the Antelope's mouth to gag it. I know what you're going to say. "Go for the nostrils". Yep - on the 6th attempt I had the idea to insert several sheets of Charmain into this stupid Antelope's nasal cavities.

It worked for a while, but of course, I was then faced with a wheezing and sniffling.
In Bolivian.
With a speech impediment.

By this time I was getting seriously annoyed. Even the Philipino Serving Boy I keep under the coffee table provided no solace. I knew it was time to take the bull by the horns. (Metaphor - yes, it was an antelope not a bull. Don't be so Literal!)

I decided that the only solution was Darren Kensington's patented Antelope Remote Control (v6.3 with the mute button).

Sadly, Darren won't be born for another 13 years, and it won't be until shortly after his 24th birthday that he'll invent the ARC ( and a further 2 years before he gets the 'mute' function sorted).

"Oh Crap" I thought. Time to dust off Nobby's time machine again for the first time.

Having made the decision, I decided it needed to be done without delay. I strolled from the West Tower, dropped by the lower kitchen to make a pot of tea, ironed a few shirts, read a couple of Charles ******* Novels, and before you could say 'gbaji' I was in the cellar.

There, outlined in gleaming mahogany, onyx and melted pepsi bottles was my beloved time machine. I set the controls for the heart of the sun, pulled down the thermal visor on my bobble-hat and clenched my buttocks.

Within 4 yards I was happily arriving in 2045.

I'm going to will have tracked down Mr Kensington and borrowingeds the Anelope Remote Control.

Quick as a flash, I am have will leapt back into the Time Machine (bear with me on the grammatical tenses - Time Travel buggers up the language, don't you find?) and returninged to 2006.

I carefully made my way into the bathroom and aimed the remote control at the Antelope, which by now was busily trying to hide my shower gel and shaving foam into the pockets of its combat trousers. Both of the Zebras and all of the Centipedes in the bidet looked on in anticipation.

But this is my dilemma.

Now it has been muted, should I use the Antelope as a convenient writing pad (felt marker is perfectly legible on it's pelt, as it's quite a short-haired Antelope), or shave it and use it to clear a path for me at supermarket check-outs?

All advice appreciated.

I'd imagine that you could make some decent cash with some antelope fur. And since it'll grow back eventually, you could use the fur as a renewable source of income.

And if the supermarket won't take antelope fur in exchange for their wares, you can always resort to using the shaved antelope itself for clearing the way for you.

Your problem is that Phillipino Serving Boys are not accustomed to providing solace, they are for providing thought-provoking dialogue and martinis. For solace, may I suggest a Nigerian Triple Amputee with a penchant for theology. Has always done the trick for me.

As for the crux of your conundrum, I advise you use the muted antelope as a writing pad, I suspect the lustrous pelt makes everything one anotates take on a regal radiance, befitting of a queen. That is, of course, unless Dracoid has lost his effectiveness as super-market check-out line clearer, though I'd imagine it would still be simpler to travel back to a time when he was less sub-average, than to find such a remarkable creature as the Antelope.

I think it's pretty clear what I'd do with it. You may want to consider that.

Who won the fight?


(I've checked the interwebs and can't find the results)

You're upset because the antelope is a better cook than you, aren't you?

Aren't you?

Cheers mate.

By way of an update:

The Antelope claims to be married to George Clooney's manicurist.
I've checked on Snopes and there does seem to be some legitimacy to the claim.

For now I've taken the temporary measure of dropping Agent Orange over 2,892 acres of Vermont, PodCasting each of my visits to the lavatory, lying about my height and sending a gallon of my own bile to Billy Connoly's hairdresser.

Just to be on the safe side.

If there are any outstanding 'issues' with the continuum, do I get your stuff?

PS - For the imagitonationally challenged, picture a with antlers, combat trousers, a bolivian accent, a speech impediment and a Dodge Viper (I mentioned the Dodge didn't I?)

There are far too many uses for an antelope to resign it to a life of Sharpie fumes and supermarket terrorizing. Have you considered hanging it on the wall and using it as a coat rack? I also hear that antelopes make excellent additions to saltwater fish tanks.

Stop making references for us to catch, damnit!

The Bolivian accent isn't so much an accent as a rythmic melody which always ends in a question.


I'd set it free and follow its lead. This is clearly an invite to an exciting new adventure! Maybe you'll get your own wand and pudgy yet loveable sidekick.