Month: November 2016

The Dean’s Daring Plan

Secret Diary Of PorterGirl

With the evidence mounting against Hawkins College, The Dean and I are of the conclusion that our only option at this point is a most daring escapade of monumental proportions. The problem is, we are having considerable trouble convincing Head Porter of this matter. In all probability, this is because neither The Dean nor my good self have had any sleep and on top of that we have had only the finest whiskey for breakfast. I doubt we are making much sense.

Head Porter himself seems very under par, I must say. The subject of his daughter has been decidedly off limits, which, to me, rather indicates some tension or other. Coupled with his rumoured financial difficulties I suppose he has every right to be rather glum. I just wish he would talk to me about it.

At this moment, Head Porter has even less to be happy about, faced…

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An Enigma In Plain Sight

Secret Diary Of PorterGirl

They say that there is a fine line between genius and madness and my experience of the academic world has led me to believe that this is true. But what I am also given to supposing is that the boundary between a genius and a fool may also be similarly emaciated.

It is four in the morning and I have not slept at all. As I sit, shivering slightly, on my back doorstep, cup of tea in hand, I am considering whether I am, at this moment, a genius or a fool. I am sure there are several people who might answer this question rather quickly, but then those people do not realise that I have cracked the code of the art collection records. Or at the very least, I think I have. Sleep deprivation can do strange things to a person’s mind. But certainly, there are several things that…

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Wing Commander Tom Reveals His Plan

Who Shot Tony Blair?

Minister for Good Ideas & Gin Dr Samantha Martens was not, as a rule, a nervous person. But right now, Wing Commander Tom was making her nervous. She couldn’t quite fathom how a man who kept his face covered with his hat was able to convey quite such a threatening demeanour. But then, the events – not to mention the gin – from last night were sitting heavily in her mind. She wasn’t quite her usual chipper self. Dr Martens gripped the arms of her chair and wished she was anywhere but the Cabinet office as Tom came and sat on the table, right by her.

“So you see that’s my really menacing look – well, it’s not really a look, is it, but you know what I mean – it’s the very look I shall be using during my interrogations this afternoon,” Tom was very pleased with himself, it…

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