Metaphorickal Analysis of the Complex Feelynges of Nashe - Decision to Use Blakk Arts - Interview Wyth A Librarian - "Stop, Thief!" - An Atrocity

Past the acres of crushd, blacknd furze that once I calld my equanimity, I could spy a last miserable glowynge on the orizon where the metaphorickal sun revolvd its way into extinction for the nyght. Problems, mutterd I in my purgatorie. Problems wyth woman.

I draftd a spelle to winne here to my love and betooke me to harvest as many bookes on the Blakke Arts as I koude from Hackneye Booke Depositorie. The librarian on thys day was a hulkynge pirate in the very pryme of lyfe, black-shirted and clean combd wyth a badge readynge ‘Ebeneezer’. I presentd my beloved library carde unto hym and lookd the pyrate in the eye calmly, wyth a hint of impednyng disorder.

-Hello Mr. Thomas Nashe.
I grinnd fiercely then tooke the Retinal Scan.
-And how can I helpe you, Mr. Nashe?
-I’m lookynge for a book. I set forthe my argumente, though already I felt the eggtimer of my patience beganne to trickle.
-Yes, Mr Nashe, which book were you lookynge for? the buffoon askd my suddenly unsmylyng face.
-A booke on the Blakke Arts, I went on.
-Yes, well, Mr Nashe, of course ‘The Black Arts’, do you knowe who the author is?
-I am lookynge for a booke aboute them, I drond.
-Oh I am sorry Mr. Thomas Nashe, cowerd the pyrate.
-I’m lookynge for ISBN 0140430679.
He producd a Record on the white screene and read it very slowlye.
-Yes, I think we do have it, he decyded at laste.

In between the laste C.W. Awdry and the ende of the shelfe there lay a volume bounde in seaweede. Howe longe it hadde been there I didde not guess. Ebeneezer gave it me askynge was it the correckt one? I was very pleasd to inform hym it was. He offerd a private readyng roome and some white gloves that I took with pleasure. I thankd Ebeneezer heartily. However, once I had the booke in hande I whizzd out of the Hackneye Booke Depository and made for my roomes at top speede. Ebeneezer was in hott persuite, puffynge lyke a carthorse and menacynge my styck-thinne body wyth a snappynge, or WORSE it koude have been a shaggynge or snippynge I knew not what he would do.

I slammd the door behynde me but the rear window was open and Ebeneezer the pyrate was clymbynge in, huge and foamynge at the mouth as I clutchd litel my booke to me. I instantly fetchd my rapier and cloke from the clokeroome and stood him offe at the bottom of the staires.

-Stand downe! I broadcast.
-Thief! Cried Ebeneezer, advancynge.

He aimd the first blowe wyth hys mighty beglov’d fiste and I darted into the parlour, leavynge hym to smashe through the glass of the front door.

I crowed from the chaise longue, Youle never take my lyfe.
-You’ll have your library card revokd replied Ebeneezer, and he streightway pickd up a poker and was suddenly the very pickture of a Foaming Asssailant. He lungd about the chaise longue as I leapt from ende to ende. The elecktrick saviour I hadde stoode by the fyreplace so many weeks ago for Lady Maude remaind, and I pickd it up wyth a prayr.
-Thatte is our Lorde and Saviour Jesus Christe, pointed out Ebeneezer.
We both pausd for thought. In the awkward silence that ensued I putte on one of the electrick tunes. We stoppd to consider howe bothe of us were given pause for thoughte. Thenne, sicke of thys idleness, I stabbd hym in the hede wyth my dagger and the bloud ranne out along the skirtynge boarde.