The Case the Cat Dragged In: The Forum Follies go to London

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Meanwhile, far from the local pub, in fact, seemingly far from civilization, Phil sat alone. In the Old Days, he would have been surrounded by stacks of files. But as this was Now, it was the light of a computer terminal that cast the glow on his face, rather than that of a green glass shaded reading lamp. At his elbow sat a pot of tea, and the crumbled remains of a biscuit left a tell tale trail down the front of his shirt. Next to his tea cup sat a silver flask, and, as he read, he absentmindedly poured a little bit more of its contents into his tea.

In a scientist's blog document dated exactly three weeks prior he read: Late yesterday (Eastern time), I learned that the Met Office/CRU had identified the existence of a mole. They are now aware that there has in fact been a breach of security. They have confirmed that I am in fact in possession of Twitcher Undulation data, data so sensitive that, according to the UK Met Office, my being in possession of this data would, “damage the trust that scientists have in those scientists who happen to be employed in the public sector”, interfere with the “effective conduct of international relations”, “hamper the ability to protect and promote United Kingdom interests through international relations” and “seriously affect the relationship between the United Kingdom and other Countries and Institutions.”

Phil leaned back in his chair, and took a few sips of tea... Something about this blog seemed familiar... Wasn't there a case a few years ago having to do with a twitching undulating baroness of Russian descent, a scientist, and a formula?... (typing.....) hmmmm.... this must be what I was remembering....

...Baroness Colleen Cromwell, the Shadow Security Minister when the Tories were in Opposition - was widely expected to take over the newly created role of National Security Adviser with overall responsibility for British intelligence policy at home and abroad. A senior security source revealed that the Baroness's appointment was blocked after MI5 produced a report about her links to two controversial Russian oligarchs.

According to a source, MI5 sent the Prime Minister's aides a confidential briefing about her connections to two billionaires with alleged links to organised crime and a Russian mafia leader.

The source said: 'The job of National Security Adviser to the Prime Minister needed a high-security vetting clearance because it involved knowing and handling sensitive state secrets.

Phil drummed his fingers on the desktop, and reached into his pocket for a cigarette ... nothing there. (Oh yeah, I quit )...

If this Baroness was never appointed, and yet it is apparent there is a link on the T&U data, then, who within the New Scotland Yard had crossed paths with her? What was the link? The Baroness would be in her mid-forties now, perhaps she'd formed a romantic interest with someone within the force?... Wasn't there a regular at their hangout, My Brothers Place, who had some sort of title? It seems like she had a penchant for drinks containing frangelico... Sounds like a good reason to head on down to the pub, see if she's there, and who she might be chummy with. I'll bet Fogey would have noticed...
 
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The presence of the cat in the pub had triggered Sgt. P. Zoo's allergy something fierce! This must be no ordinary cat! In a fit of sneezing frenzy (that could not be stopped), Sgt. Zoo began flailing about uncontrollably as the jukebox jutted out Chuck Berry's version of, "Let's Do The Twitch". The patrons of the pub thought the sergeant was performing a new dance of sorts which immediately caught on. Soon, the entire pub dance floor was filled with twitching, sneezing, undulating bodies.

Meanwhile, the cat...
 
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Meanwhile the cat had retreated to the basement to search for another yummy mole. He was a good mouser/moler and appreciated the added protein over and above the Whiskas that the pub provided. His preference was Russian moles because when he ate a Chinese mole he found that he was hungry again two hours later.

As he prowled in the dark in and around the beer kegs and whiskey barrels he sensed the presence of another cat. He rounded the corner of the furnace and ran face to face into a tortoise shell cat with an attitude.

"Who are you and what the meow are you doing in my territory?" Prognostikitty hissed as the hair on his back went straight up

"Well, not that it is any of your dogdammed business, the name's Rambeau, what's yours?"

'Prognostikitty, but you can call me PK" replied PK as he circled the intruder

"Frog-nostril-kitty? What a stupid name! It must have been a real dork that named you" Rambeau laughed as he sprayed the nearest beer tap

With that the cat fight was on, all thoughts of moles were forgotten as the fur flew....
 
When Detective Phil walked into the pub there seemd to be some orgiastic, primitve ritual underway. His boss was spinning around on the dance floor while the crowd cheered. Phil had no idea Sgt. Zoo could breakdance.

Phil mused, “I bet the cat didn’t see this coming.”

He caught Fogey’s eye and nodded, then worked his way to the counter and plopped down next to a drop-dead gorgeous woman in a red dress. “I’ll have what she’s having.”

The women in red lowered her dark glasses a notch and said, “I’m having my legs waxed and then my 300 lb Samoan masseur is going to give me a full body work out. Want to make it a threesome, honey?” She then turned away a began studying her nails.

Phil cleared his throat, “Brother, give me a beer.”

Brother actually hated being called ‘Brother’. But the regulars ignored his requests to call him Paul. When anybody needed to make a call it was, “Brother could you spare a dime?” When they teased Brother about his weight it was always, “He ain’t heavy, he’s my brother.” A bunch of comedians.

Zoo and Peter, both soaked in sweat, joined Phil at the bar.

Phil said, “We need to talk.”
 
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[Hilarious. You all have such talent, and (Diane!) I do believe there is a plot.]
 
Oh, I'm always hopeful for a plot, but not having one has never been much of an impediment for this Forum.

Its about time for Glen to run one of his special advertisements 8)

...I am loving that Rambeux has been brought in. I miss Beth.
 
Tom the mole and twisted criminal had been undercover and playing one side against the other for so long that he was no longer sure who he was or what side he was on. Then he almost tripped over that cat and all of a sudden the future was clear, or so he thought, and he was sure of two things: there was a hiney wash in his immediate future, and he knew who to see after that. Unfortunately, he was stuck in the loo for two hours unable to turn the doorknob to get out. "Wish I'd seen THAT coming". Then Phil came in and he escaped. Phil was too lost in thought to even notice the tall stranger who brushed by with his hat pulled low. The Mole made his way toward Brother's, to find a place nearby where he could wait for the person he needed to see..
 
Just what is going on here said sgt. P Zoo. That cat fired up my allergy but nothing like all that dancing has happened before. I am plum tuckered out.

Well it all started when the cocktail spilt and the cat jumped up. I wonder if it licked up some of the cocktail and that is what affected you so much, replied Fogey.
Well I am sorry I missed most of it replied Phil. Nothing like a good breakdance to get the heart pumping.

I think it is time to do some rounding up of that darn cat and see just what is going on with it. Come on you 3 said Fogey. If we stick together we can use the sarge as an early warning device and then surround the cat from there.
Oh no thought P.Zoo more dancing.

They got up and headed out to the basement in search for the cat. All except Peter that is. He was still day dreaming of muffins and had not heard a word of what they said.

The others, intent on the great cat hunt failed to notice that Peter wasn’t with them. Had one of them turned around though they would have seen the lady in the red dress approaching him, sitting alone at the bar.
 
Still reeling from the effects of a trip to Comic-Con, (the exposition dedicated to comics and cartoons) the buxom ladies in their costumes (Catwoman,SuperGirl, and Wonder Woman), Red Bull & Jagermeister, and a king size bed that was too small, Glen sat in the room, listening to a description of a lost pussy.

Sitting there, thinking to himself how much Miss RID would rock in a catwoman suit, reality came crashing back as Catwo... Miss RID , assigned him to search the bowels of the building for a pussy.

Entering the ladies loo, the mess was aparent. Drunk ladies are pigs. Bending down to see if the was any sign of a cat, the smell was enough to start him gagging. Running from the loo, the gagging stopped. If that cat is down here its probably sick also.

I just want to grab some ice-water and hibernate in the office.

:roll:
 
As Peter sat next to the lovely Colleen in red, Paul, aka. Brother, heard the Southern accent from the states turn into an entirely different sort of accent. Actually, it seemed sort of Russian. Paul decided he really needed to listen in. Why would a Russian beauty be in his Cop Haven? Peter was Scotland Yard, but this?

Meanwhile, the mole, Tom, made his way through the doors and into the bar. Quite a hike from the Hiney Wash, but he had business to conduct. Hat still covering most of his face, eyes to the floor, he made his way in moleish blindness to the back of the bar, where at a table sitting alone was Super. Barry Godsanswertowomen, who was covertly pouring soda water into a tube, while looking at a menu. Tom sat down, slid his hand under Barry's menu and palmed a note, nodded his head once, then casually stood and carefully due to blindness, crept out.

Tom did not go unnoticed, however. Colleen had arched her eyebrows toward him, cutting her eyes at Peter. Colleen was trained in Moscow Rules, and knew how things were done in the good old days. After all, her Scottish father, a spy from the sixties in the real war...-- Brrr, the Cold War, had been her teacher. She needed to remove herself now that she and Peter had shared a drink and some conversation. She unwound herself from the barstool, smile in place, and left a large sum of Euros for Peter's smoko, her wine and Paul's tip.
 
I am so lost! Like a mole that can't see! A little dazed and confused!
 
"It's a puzzle, wrapped in an enima, shrouded in mystery", said Sgt Zoo.
"I think it's enigma, boss," Peter corrected.
Fogey leaned over, irritated, "It's not a puzzle, it's a riddle! It's a riddle wrapped in a mystery inside an enigma. Winston Churchill said it during a radio broadcast in 1939. He was talking about ..."
Sgt Zoo cut off Fogey, "Ok, Fogey, we get it. Peter, bring Phil up to date."
Before Peter could start Tom joined the crowd at the corner of the bar, "What's going on?"
"That's what I want to know" cried Phil.
"Churchill was talking about the Russians" Fogey slipped in.

When Colleen heard Fogey say 'Russians' she dropped her glass, and it shattered. Paul started picking up the pieces. The lady in red threw some money on the counter, got up and headed for the door. Everybody was watching. Joe Cocker's 'You Can Leave your Hat On' was playing. The Lady stopped, turned and look at the men at the bar for a moment, "Don't forget to pull your tongues in boys. You don't want them to dry up." She then turned and disappeared through the door leaving the scent of Frangelico behind.

For a moment it was silent. Then all the guys tired from holding in their beer bellies let go, and their was a loud swoosh. Tom broke the ice," Superintendent Godsanswertowomen wants to talk to everybody here."

Everybody shuffled over to the Superintendent's table like schoolboys and took a seat.

Paul looked at the 20 Euro note on the table. The last time he got a tip it was to mind his own business. He knew the Superintendent from the old days -- back when Superintendent Barry Godsanswertowomen was a rookie, also known as Barry The Mouth. He got that name because if any broad passed out in the bar Barry would start CPR. It got so bad that Paul was losing money as all the women were afraid to drink too much for fear if getting pumped full of air from Barry. Well, all except Chief Inspector Iris. Every time Iris, then also a rookie, saw Barry she'd grab her throat and start feigning chocking. Barry and Iris came up together, and now Barry was the Man, The Big Cheese, Head Honcho, Top Dog, and nobody called him Barry the Mouth, nobody but Iris.

Paul watched them all gather around The Super. Barry was holding a piece of paper, and he wasn't smiling. Something heavy was going down.
 
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As the meeting was getting underway Paul wiped down the counter, and emptied the spittoons. The door opened and Detective Glen, Superintendent Iris Head, and the Spook from MI-5 joined the hushed discussion being led by Barry G.

Paul poured Betty a drink.

(OK, I think everybody is here ... who is going to step up to the plate and tell me and Phil what's going on?)
 
Everybody was silent as Barry G tossed a photo on the table. "We got this from one of the surveillance cameras at Trafalgar Square."
evidence.jpg
 
[Paul has given some great background in his last post, but for the sake of confusion (including my own) I thought I'd try and summarize some more...] Beginning with characters, and thank you Paul, for this list I lifted from a PM you sent me.

Characters:

Scotland Yard Superintendent Barry Godsanswertowomen / Barry G / Ladies Man

Sergeant P. Zoo / PZ / Hypochondriac

Detective Peter / may be an inside "mole" or double agent working for Russians

Detective Phil / Phil M/ who learned that the agent to be found and stopped is Baroness Colleen Cromwell

Detective Glenn /also in charge of commercials

Senior Superintendant Annie /Ann

MI-5 Spook, Rose Ida Dunne / Rose /Ms. R.I.D/ R.I.Dunne (Diane)

Chief Inspector, Ann Iris Rose Head / A.I.R Head/ IrisMarie

Bartender / Paul / or "Brother" if you must...

Shabby Bum, Tom, Yard undercover agent (also known as a "mole")

T.R. Fogart, retired agent from Scotland Yard, now a private detective

Betty Bogart /Fogart's wife / Just for fun (Bogie and Bacall)

Baroness Colleen Cromwell/ Russian agent, who seems to be meeting Peter/ Keeker?

(Sergeant P. Zoo, Detectives Peter, Phil and Glen are dubbed as the "Bod Squad")

We have a cat involved in this case, named Prognostikitty, or PK, and also
Rambeux, the cat founded and immortalized by BethU.

Ms. R. I. Dunne is from the British MI-5, and is in control of the Scotland Yard group, who are to help solve a case... involving a woman, a cocktail and a cat.

Anyone want to add more info for a summary, or continue story....?
 
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