By my sainted aunt, little two-faced twerps! Welcome to this month's exciting episode of COMTE DU GRILL, an adventure in Swedish steel. At the end of last month's equally exciting episode, you had reunited with your spiritual mentor, Nhils Carborundum, philosopher, lunatic and inventor of the nail file. You were en route to Stockholm and on a quest for the Holy Grill. This latter is an ancient Swedish artifact of unparalleled value to the mentally defective and of no interest whatsoever to any person that may be described as conscious, sane, passingly intelligent or as having an opposable thumb (even if they're not entirely sure what to do with it).
Attend me now, you tiny loons! It is I, Asperitus, the doctor of doom! And, by all the giggling gods and damnable demons, it's doom from the outset as you arrive in Stockholm while the winds of savage September rise to torment the very soul of you, should they happen to be able to locate it! Doom, doom and doom again, say I, Asperitus! The haruspex of harangue! Mischievous Mercury grapples with the great Sol Invicti and you haggle with your new landlord over the necessary cleaning routines for your Stockholm apartment.
But by my sainted aunt, my air sign cretins, marauding Mars still seethes and snorts his way into the nether regions of the Loony South Node. Stunning revelations are revealed as you discover from the idle chatter of a brewery worker sharing your digs that Nhils Carborundum is an outlaw in Sweden due to his outlandish views and past refractory acts. He is deemed by the body of the law to be recalcitrant, seditious and ungovernable. Thus you, by association, are an enemy of the state of Sweden. Eek! Let us hope that none divine your dread secret! And, the Holy Grill you seek, the object of the Carborundum cult's devotion, is not only thought to be a myth, a chimera but also may not be legally mentioned in a public place. It can, of course, be discussed by consenting adults in private as long as they possess the requisite academic qualifications. The laws of Sweden are severe and precise on the matter, as indeed they are on all topics of moral conduct.
Mischievous Mercury and the great Sol Invicti grapple in odious fashion with the idiot god, Uranus and you, through fear, change your apartments again and again to avoid detection. You text and email headquarters in desperation to obtain orders as to what to do. But, as the Full Moon in tear-stained Pisces brings a Lunar Eclipse to your solar tenth house, there is no reply. Your teacher has abandoned you to a lonely Swedish fate!
What will you do? You sit in a slough of despond, aimlessly watching as your housekeeper diligently applies herself to the cleaning and rearrangement of the furniture. Odds bodkins! Egad! Gadzooks! And other quaint expressions to indicate surprise and alarm. Your quest to find the Holy Grill has evaporated, forgotten like so many of the once important things in your largely meaningless existence. Marauding Mars barrels belligerently into loathsome Libra and you return to familiar pastures, squandering the days and nights with drinking, revelry and transvestite shenanigans in the fleshpots of Stockholm, bereft of any sense of mission or purpose.
But what's this? Nasty aspects in the Heavens now lead to nasty consequences on earth. After a night deep in your cups, you find yourself in an altercation involving a group of transvestites and workers from a local brewery. The altercation turns to a melee in the course of which you swoon as a chloroform laden chiffon scarf is held to your nostrils by a tall, hairy Swede dressed in the fashion of Marlene Dietrich. Jolly Jupiter hobnobs with narcotic Neptune as the New Moon brings a Solar Eclipse in the vexatious sign of the Virgin. You now awake with a headache, secured by a brutal set of 'boy scout' knots in what appears to be a rough country cabin. And at the centre of this rustic room there burns a fire with a grid of steel suspended above.
Ye gods and little fishes! What hell is this, tiny air sign twits? As appalling planets fornicate and fart their way into loathsome Libra, a variety of individuals enter and stand about you in a circle. They're dressed as if for an occasion, wearing helmet and tabard and carrying swords. From the dim reaches of returning consciousness, realization comes. Could this be the Holy Grill? Not a myth but real! And are you to be burned on its 'white hot' steel bars as an enemy of Sweden? Eek!
If this is a spiritual experience, it may be a case of medium or rare. Will you be the first Carborundum kebab? Click here next time and read the next searing episode of COMTE DU GRILL, an adventure in Swedish steel. For the nonce, ave!
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