David Thayer

Members of the towne council are debating a proposal to acknowledge that Wellington Leg is a figment of someone’s imagination. Lord Holgate, the man who translated INNAGADAVIDA, made the startling suggestion during question time Friday. If Wellington Leg is a figment or construct the towne may qualify for federal aid. Holgate presented several arguments supporting his controversial idea.

The Roman Invasion: although everyone in Wellington Leg is aware that the Roman army has invaded, few if any outsiders share this assessment. The city of Los Angeles, for example, seems indifferent to the fact that four legions menace her borders.

“A blog with a literary focus” Lord Holgate argues that Wellington Leg along with Goth, Carthago Nova, and Henley Hornbrook are part of an obscure metaphor about a Utopian ideal somehow related to marine biology.

Language issues: although written in English Wellington Leg’s constitution is understood best by those who don’t speak English. A quick survey of visitors reveals a vast array of interpretation even though the sign says DON’T EVEN THINK ABOUT PARKING HERE a quote from the Preamble.

Our daily newspaper, THE DRUIDICAL & LITERARY, claims to be delivered to our doorsteps but in fact arrives via RSS feeds. The city ordered the construction of a massive ditch in order to accomodate these “feeds” but at last report cost overruns threaten the future of the ditch. And why are workmen using tiny plastic shovels? The D9 grader ordered from Caterpillar is only four inches long.

For a transcript of Lord Holgate’s Compleat Thoughts and Caterpillar’s Entire Product Line please write to: What Has This Got to Do with Literature? Rabbits Down Close, Wellington Leg CBGB. A podcast is available at Judy’s Pizza Haus where customers throw pies and dance the night away. Hamilcar Frist reporting for the Eye in the Sky.

After being slapped by a Google glove, the earl will fight a duel with author Baron Roquefort Montescue near the Seven Dials on Thumping Monk Square. The Baron, a member of a local critique group, was the subject of a literary expose in last week’s edition of the Druidical & Literary, an article penned by the earl. “Montescue plagiarized entire passages of VOLTAIRE’S MIASMA. He shamelessly lifted sections of RIMBAUD wherein a Prince of Pomerania is lowered from a helicopter into the Winter Palace.”

For comparison, let’s examine two sentences: “Was it wise to rescue Alexandra in this foul weather or wait for Spring?” ( Voltaire’s Miasma.) “The weather, though foul, played second fiddle to Alexandra’s sudden reluctance.” And later: “Her goggles fogged over and tears leapt from her eyes,” versus, “She wept through a goggled fog.” Or, “Lord Pendragon, awakened from sleep, shouted, ‘boo-yah’ and rammed the Forthright.” “Sea Lord Pendragon, addled by slumber, shot the stars and rammed the Forthright.”

A Matter of Honor? Judge Hamilcar Frist, awakened from slumber, issued a statement after careful review of all passages. “Where in Tsarist Russia would one locate a helicopter?” Dueling is forbidden under City Ordinance Twenty Two: “No two or four shall engage one another or the others or themselves in suche folly.”

Judge Frist read a passage from his Work in Progress: “After inventing a flying machine, I approached the Winter Palace, though weeping through goggled eyes from turbulence…Alexandra waved from the roof, her Google Gloves bitten with frost.”

Baron Rocquefort will employ a T-72 main battle tank in his duel with the earl. Though obsolete, the T-72 is formidable in close quarters. The T-72 will be provided by Bob’s House of Tanks on Auto Row. J. McEnroe reporting.

Mr. Jeremy Whiting of Rook Upon Castle used a robot to complete his 50,000 word NaNoWriMo novel according to Flying Squad Commander DCI Borchardt. The robot completed a potboiler called THAT SMYTHE WOMAN. It tells the story of an heiress, wrongly accused of murder, who finds peace in the building trades as a marble cutter. “It’s a pretty good story,” Borchardt said. “There are problems though. She falls in love with a robot. The Hero is a robot. The villain is described as ‘human.’”

The story is set in Seattle during 30 days of constant rain, snow mixed with rain, sleet, and football injuries. In the opening scene the main character, Ark, is seen pulling Subarus from ditches. He enjoys spot welding and Google searches. When Ark encounters the stranded Mrs. Smythe beneath a seismically challenged overpass, sparks fly. “Ark disassembles a Lexus SUV,” Borchardt said. “When he eats the windshield, though, one wonders whether the story isn’t riddled with magical realism.”

Professor Moriarity, speaking off the cuff, said that the robot was programmed to write genre fiction during a tune-up in September. “You can’t blame Ark for the state of modern literature,” he said. As for Mr. Whiting, his entry has been disqualified. His writing desk, with its coveted ocean view, will face the wall until further notice. A vintage Royal typewriter has been confiscated, and the robot author will be reconfigured for Subaru repair. “Deep down, he’s a body and fender man,” noted publicist Lars Kierkegaard. Lars landed a Saab Viggen fighter on the 405 at the height of the morning rush. “My windshield wiper broke,” he said. JT Leroy reporting.

Dateline Wellington Leg: HRH J Mansfield Prison will be converted to condo use according to real estate developer and mystery writer Nora Charles. Nora’s husband, Nick, said the warden’s office will be a penthouse suite overlooking historic Threadneedle Alley. Local artist Benny will paint a mural on the far wall of the alley. “It’ll have puffy white clouds on a field of local lettuce,” he said. Nick and Nora plan to occupy the penthouse with their dog and houseman. Once settled in, they will resume solving local mysteries with a focus on the Thuringian Dressmaker Case. “We think the earl is innocent,” Nora said. “That’s why we bought the property.”

The Earl remains behind bars in the turnip throwing incident many believe incited the Valeria Victrix legion to invade Wellington Leg in the first place. Since the arrival of Roman forces, GDP is down while CPI is up. PPI remains unchanged but the cost of query letters, the city’s major export, has risen dramatically. DCI Borchardt, whose WIP Wellington Leg Confidential was leaked to the tabloid press, estimates that his queries, after being steam opened and disseminated at the Wellington Leg Literary Faire, are now in the hands of Roman skirmishers. In fact, Borchardt is now querying exclusively in Latin.

Postscript: the mysterious deluge of disposable cameras that struck Hizzoner’s Family Pool Hall last week may be explained by the erratic orbit of the Spy Satellite launched here in September. “The satellite fell out of geosynchronous orbit after being rear ended by a lime green AMC Pacer,” police sources said. The news may lead to the cancellation of “Launch a Pacer into Space” a reality television show produced by our own Wilfedo Tagesblatt, VP of Development. One of the Pacers splashed down near the Straights of Magellan. Efforts to recover the Pacer have been complicated by severe weather and lack of oarsmen. “It’s six thousand miles away,” Mr. Tagesblatt said.

The new condo units will be made of Silly Putty. Bobby G reporting and fabricating under deadline.

It’s not often that the opportunity to interview an actual mogul comes along. Moguls are scarce on the ground and we’ve had Marty before explaining why he bought up all the publishing houses and ruined the business. We caught up with him near Redmond Washington where he’s vacationing. Marty was dressed in the gear of a decurion in the Vicessima Claudia Legion reenacting the battle of Lake Trasimere.

How goes the battle?

Hannibal’s troops have camped on that hill over there past the Seven Eleven. Tomorrow they’ll attack out of the fog and slaughter us.

You ruined the publishing business in the wake of a bitter divorce: how’s the dating going? Do you think if you find the right woman you’ll sell some publishing houses?

My people are crunching the numbers on the dating scene right now. I’m reading a lot of chick lit in the hopes of understanding that side of the biz. Here’s my question: why should we pay writers anything? People should be happy to see their name on the cover.

Marty, what’s your take on crime fiction?

It’s expensive. My cost benefit analysis indicates serious inefficiencies; again the writer is the problem. Now we’ve designed a robot capable of writing 23,000 words per day. Granted, someone has quirt 10-40d on the bot but that job is entry level. This robot produces a novel every four days.

Wow. Are the books any good?

Well, they deal with robot themes. Like I wish I had real hands, stuff like that.

You mean The Tin Man Syndrome?

Good title. I’ll pay you a quarter for it.

50 cent.

Writers are greedy. Once this robot thing takes off you’ll be out of luck.

Wellington Leg, the 12th Ultimo: fearing scandal the cabal controlling this blog have assembled in a remote hunting lodge near the mountain village of Appalachia in the hopes of divvying up the media empire’s vast riches. Local sheriff Rico Fermi shared this insight from a duck blind a quarter mile from the lodge: “The first thing I noticed was all the limos. We only have one limo in town and it’s a Plymouth station wagon.”

The Plymouth has a flat tire according to Mechanic Mike who didn’t want to reveal his real name or Amazon Ranking. “A fat guy in a white shirt stopped for gas. He asked if I’d seen Paris Hilton. I’m like, what? Is she missing?”

Rumors to the contrary notwithstanding the gathering at the lodge includes the Boys from Philly, the Boys from Jersey, forty Lincoln Towncars and two guys from Cleveland. Some of them wore teeshirts that read “Blogger” and were observed playing bocce.

DCI Borchardt and the Flying Squad are standing by. Their late model Dodge Charger is in the shop so they may have to run to the lodge should the need arise. “I’m really backed up,” Mike the Mechanic said. “I hope Fat Joey shows up tomorrow. It’s like everybody in town is missing.”

Appalachia’s population is 456. In the summer that number rises to 457 for the Annual Cheese Hunt during which residents hide things from one another. Drew Bledsoe reporting.

Wellington Leg: Here in the Greta Garbo Room of the Hotel Faz tables are arranged to allow literary agents to hear pitches at the Tenth Annual Wellington Leg Writers Conference. It was here yesterday afternoon that The Earl swung from a chandelier in the direction of Ueberagent Angelina Scones, considered to be the most powerful agent in the Publishing World. Ms. Scones, famous for her list, was listening to DCI Borchardt as he droned through the plot summary of WELLINGTON LEG CONFIDENTIAL. Borchardt had reached the point in his narrative where he scales the Tower to rescue Faire Olive utilizing her golden locks as an impromptu ladder: “It’s Rapunzel meets the Usual Suspects” said Borchardt. “Ms. Scones appeared mesmerized.”

The Earl was accompanied by Sheriffs and Bailiffs from HRH J Mansfield Prison. Facing charges of throwing a turnip at a Roman sentry, The Earl purchased “a pitch session” with Ms. Scones. Clutching the entire manuscript of Rimbaud he raced into the ballroom, climbed onto a vacant table and seized hold of the chandelier. “He sailed across the ballroom,” reported Heather DeMedici whose roman a clef about her days as an intern at the Druidical & Literary is raising eyebrows in towne. “He showed remarkable quickness,” said a scout. “Great lateral speed.”

Dozens of agents streamed out of the Greta Garbo Room until order was restored. Prudentia Chalfont-Smythe, chair of the Organizing Committee, said that pitch sessions would resume this morning. Both The Earl and the offending chandelier have been removed. On a happier note Ms. Scones requested the opening two paragraphs of Borchardt’s novel. He plans to include glossy photos depicting his triumphant role as Lysander in last year’s Shakespeare in the Costco Parking Lot production. “The arrow through my head is real,” he added. “It’s not a stage prop.”

In a setback for The Earl, the New York Yankees left him off their expanded roster. Thus, any major league team can claim him according to Sports Editor Mandy Rice-Davies. The Earl’s role as set-up man suffered when the Duchess of Wey went yard off a cut fastball served up by the aspiring pitcher. “She turned on it,” Mandy said. “She smoked it.” The Duchess showed The Earl up by lingering in the batter’s box before making a slow turn around the bases. Some of The Earl’s teammates came to the dugout steps but seemed reluctant to brawl with the Duchess. She gave the crowd a curtain call while The Earl fumed on the hill. “There could be chin music next time,” said an unnamed coach. “She’s thumbing her nose at tradition.”

The Duchess favors a Manny Ramirez 44 ounce ash bat. “It’s a big stick,” said Professor Moriarity. “If she keeps her head down and her weight back she can generate tremendous bat speed.”

Brian Cashman, Yankees GM, gave no indication that the Yankees will sign the Duchess. With Matsui and Sheffield coming off the disabled list there is no room for her in the Yankee outfield. As for The Earl, Cashman wondered aloud about the clanking sound audible from the pitcher’s mound. “Nobody clanks, do they?” he asked.

Dateline: Foggy Bottom. Hizzoner Jimmy Stones has appointed Prudentia Chalfont-Smythe, heiress and poet, to chair the newly formed Wellington Leg Literary Taste Society. The Society will police the literary tastes of the populace at the grass roots level where Audit Teams will be dispatched to the homes of those citizens suspected of writing. Chalfont-Smythe will serve as Arbiter and report to former IRS Administrator and Bon Vivant, Graf von Sitzbaedchen. “We will emulate various tax authorities and regulatory agencies such as the SEC,” the graf said in a prepared statement. “Our enforcement division will conduct raids on various critique groups and book clubs in effort to elevate readers’ consumption.” Heir to the Sitz bath fortune, the graf has dedicated much of his adult life to the eradication of poor taste.

Eddy of Eddy’s Book Nook, Wellington Leg’s preeminent indy bookstore, said he welcomes the scrutiny of the new agency. He has no plans, however, to withdraw his forty foot cardboard likeness of Dame Pamela Anderson from the roof of his establishment. His “Babes of Baywatch Reading Series” has been a big hit. “We’re getting a lot of surfers who want to read a book,” he said. Eddy has been experimenting with three page novels that feature plenty of pictures. “Marge Tolliver writes them during her coffee break,” Eddy said.

Indeed Marge was taken into custody in a dawn raid on her Italianate Revival Townhome constructed by Hizzoner’s brother-in-law, Vasco de Gama. Marge is detained at HRH J Mansfield Prison whose outer walls have been repaired. Faithful readers may recall that the prison sustained heavy damage during the earl’s “Big Bust Out” an event sponsored by Big Tobacco. “Marge is behind locked doors,” reported Mrs. Chalfont-Smythe, author of Her Lyrical Poetry. “Let this be a lesson to us all.”

Wellington Leg: The quiet of a predawn shift change was shattered when the Earl of Watership Down, author and raconteur, escaped custody through a “gap” in the mighty walls of HRH Mansfield Prison officials admitted this morning. Warden Pico di Gallo, wearing a Boston Massacre 11 sweatshirt, reported the escape to Mrs. Anderson-Cooper, QC on the QT shortly after PT. The Prosecutrix, vibrant in a yellow slicker, said she was reading Albert Camus when word of the daring escape reached her. She ordered dozens of glazed donuts and threw a cordon around the neighborhood. “We will capture the earl,” she vowed. “Public safety demands it.”

Food critic Ildephonse Macaroni was driving home from the theater and had this to say: “I was westbound on the Boulevard of Broken Seams when I noticed a rotund fellow in chains hurrying along the sidewalk. I used my cellular telephone to summon police.” Mr. Macaroni was cited for cell phone use in a motor vehicle according to Deputy Chief Dick Cheney. “We smacked him around pretty good,” Dick said.

The north face of the prison suffered extensive damage in what is now being called The Big Bust Out although it isn’t clear why it’s so Big when only one man escaped. The Earl is wearing striped trousers with the word “prisoner” stitched into the seat. Gladys Rye of Alte Gasse is the seamstress who designed the garment: “One is alerted by the vertical piping and bold colors to the fact that the wearer, in this case The Earl, is an escapee.”

Prison official Donny Rumsfeld warned that the escaped prisoner may seek shelter among the towne’s population. “He may try to blend in. If you think you’ve seen The Earl, write an essay on the subject and submit it to: I HAVE SEEN THE EARL ESSAY CONTEST. Remember that your entry cannot exceed five hundred words. Type your name and email address on the bottom right corner of the face sheet.”

Thus far the only essay received is written in Latin. “It’s annoying,” admitted Hamilcar Frist. “We’re volunteers. No one said anything about reading Latin.”