The Earl Accosted
Jack the Ripper Strasse 13: My cell is of no special design or construction, merely an oblong box with a single window, rudimentary appointments, a faded exclamation that Nixon’s the One abbraided into the stone. Ah, the vagaries of popular culture! They’ve confiscated my Freda Payne LP smuggled so cleverly by the Dowager Princess in amongst her possessions and accoutrements without which she is loathe to set forth. The guards, stout fellows all, have succumbed to the Breshnevian aura of the place and are dozing in the Day Room. The faint strains of Abba drift from somewhere beyond the walls: perhaps a seance is in progress or a shotgun wedding. Or the music is meant to torment an errant teenager in a remedial remand with accompaniment. Difficult to speculate as your reporter is himself shackled and restrained whilst awaiting the urgent resumption of the trial of the century.
Enough about me. One of the hogs snouted by earlier, pushing with vigor against the window bars. Indeed an entire of passel of hogs are outside milling around the alley. Their momentary indecision may be a byproduct of the Abba, known to confuse and paralyze the creatures. I gather my things as the opening bars of All Along the Watchtower, the Hendrix version, rattle the walls. Hog after hog now stand in a great pile, energized, bashing against the rusted steel of my cage. “Steady boys,” I whisper lest the guards stir themsleves as the metal grating crashes inward.
The opening is narrow and though I twist this way and that a certain ampleness of form inhibits my progress. The hogs hand up numerous appliances designed for this sort of endeavor, hacksaws, chain saws, sledge hammers, three ring binders, not so useful now, perhaps later. Good Lord, a table saw, radial saw, they’ve emptied the garage. I see they’ve pushed the Hispano-Suiza into place below me stuffed with an array of pillows taken from round the house without regard to color scheme. This is a Great Escape, without a doubt, impaired somewhat by my inability to blast away sufficient rock and, oh no….The Captain and Tenille.
Flee boys, I cry. We’ll breakout soon. Last time we were thwarted by 99 Luftballonen. Will the guards notice the gaping hole in my wall? The radial saw? YHS, The Earl.