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THE DETESTABLE MR. LEACH MAKES A DEVIOUS WAGER

A fancy parlor in London where gentlemen of considerable intellect engage in bold conversation with resident curmudgeon and holder of shocking opinions, Mr. Leach.

wageringgents

Mr. Bummercund: What brings you down this sooty avenue, Mr. Abysinnia?

Mr. Abyssinia: Only the need for a bit of the hair of the dog that bit me, Mr. Bummercund. His teeth, they sank deep last night!

Mr. Bummercund: One hopes your manservant's teeth aren't covered in any of those preposterous "viruses" the famous Dr. Pasteur of Paris claims to have conquered. You'd be in quite a bit of trouble.

Mr. Abyssinia: Ah, touche, Mr. Bummercund. No, 'twould be improbable since Buckley was run down by a Hansom cab last week. Dreadful.

Mr. Bummercund: Egads! Was he killed in the incident, Mr. Abyssinia?

Mr Abyssinia: Instantly. I was going quite fast when it happened.

Star-divide

Barkeep! Gin and cream, barkeep, and be a Chinaman about it if you would.

Barkeep: Yes sir.

Mr. Bummercund: So, Mr. Abyssinia, let us discuss the year's wagering, if we could, yes?

Mr. Abyssinia: Yes, quite. Lord Gordon versus Sudan?

Mr. Bummercund: Sudan in three months. You?

Mr. Abyssinia: Traitor! Gordon and the white man's burden in two, malaria be damned. Gin and gumption over all.

Mr. Bummercund: Your charitable donation to my opium habit is appreciated. O'Leary versus bear?

Mr. Abyssinia: The bear in 32 rounds.

Mr. Bummercund: Nonsense: nothing trumps an Irishman bolstered by strychnine and this fascinating product of the New World, this CO-CAI-I-NA I have heard so much of and dearly wish to try with the money I shall take unopposed from your pocket here. O'Leary and his fearsome apothecary in 22, and I double the wager should you dare to bet on his surviving the 24 hours after the fight.

Mr. Abyssinia: Your arrogance is my pension, Mr. Bummercund. I shall keep a dusty pallet beneath the servants' quarters for you. Now, to Oklahoma State and Georgia--

Mr. Bummercund: Why, the Cowboys and their triplets will--

A newspaper snaps down. It is in Chinese. THE DETESTABLE MR. LEACH stares at them coolly from his chair in the corner.

The Detestable Mr. Leach: I would have remained silent, but I'm a sworn enemy to fatuosity in all its forms. This is a quest, not an imposition, and you shall treat it as such.

Mr. Abyssinia: Why, if it is not the very Detestable Mr. Leach, he of the outrageous theories and fabulous quotes! Come now, why trouble a gentleman over his choice of wagers? Is that not like guiding the trajectory of his Cupid's Arrow in flight on a carefree Saturday night in Whitechapel?

The Detestable Mr. Leach: I shudder to think of the syphilitic targets your arrow has struck, Mr. Abyssinia. Would you trust a fat man without a raincoat to ferry you Cathay's finest dream-powder in a London downpour, Mr. Bummercund?

Mr. Bummercund: Most certainly not, lest I get the tremors!

The Detestable Mr. Leach: Most certainly not indeed. Then why trust engage in the blind buffoonery of leaning on a team with three new starters in the secondary in a conference noted for its fusillade of points pouring from the skies like the torrents of a Siamese monsoon? Is that not like entering Ms. Barclay's House of Masculine Indulgence without the protection of a well-fitted sausage casing, Mr. Abyssinia?

Mr. Abyssinia: Why, what's the danger in that?

The Detestable Mr. Leach: Syphilis has taste for healthy brains, and when it--pardon me. In your case, no danger at all. Proceed apace. In fact, for once, I shall partake of this donnybrook and enroll in your wagering. I shall take both of your bets for the Cowboys, and see them double against these...what are they referred to in the charming colloquialism of the American colonies...yes, these "Red Raiders."

Mr. Abyssinia: And here we were thinking you the ascetic, Mr. Leach. What interest have you in this game?

Mr. Leach: [smiles]

Mr. Bummercund: Well, you shall rue the day you bet against a pair of formidable punters such as ourselves!

Mr. Leach: And this shall be the only time you see me punt. Only as a cat with a full gorge regrets playing too much with fat mice, gentlemen. Now, if you'll excuse me, I'm off to Whitehall to warn the Minister of the dangers of interlocking secret treaty agreements. I fear it shall lead to a war, even one might call "a World War," if unchecked.

Mr. Abyssinia: Ah, Mr. Leach. We have no greater friend than the secret treaty agreement!

Mr. Leach: Ron Prince felt exactly the same way.

Mr. Bummercund: What?

Mr. Leach: Adieu, troglodytes. [/he saunters out]

Mr. Abyssinia: Oh, how I hate the detestable Mr. Leach!

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I feel compelled to wear a monacle for reading this.

by She Blinded Me With Violence on Aug 25, 2009 1:59 PM EDT reply actions  

@ Me

Or a “monocle”, you illiterate ne’er-do-well.

by She Blinded Me With Violence on Aug 25, 2009 2:02 PM EDT reply actions  

Were I an old man, past merely declining and begun to fade into the very sheets of my bed, I would summon my strength to laugh my ass off at the Detestable Mr. Leach.

by AERose on Aug 25, 2009 2:04 PM EDT reply actions  

Barkeep! Gin and cream, barkeep, and be a Chinaman about it if you would.

My first order at the bar tonight. I have no idea if I should be excited or fearful.

by skinnyphatman on Aug 25, 2009 2:15 PM EDT reply actions  

I think the ladies added a certain something to it last time. Also needs more Mr. Leach. But the reason I like this new series is that it’s both educational and humorous. I learn so many old-tyme words and phrases, and an alarming point about Oklahoma State here in this one.

by Tim on Aug 25, 2009 2:17 PM EDT reply actions  

Admirably well-done! 100 absinthes to you, good sir.

Now for the inevitable fact-check blunder-hunt:

General Charles “Chinese” Gordon was never a lord.

Gordon was killed in the Sudan in 1885, thirteen years before viruses were discovered.

Viruses were not discovered by Pasteur, but by Martinus Beijerinck, in 1898.

Carry on!

by An 'eer with a beer on Aug 25, 2009 2:30 PM EDT reply actions  

I shudder to think of the syphilitic targets your arrow has struck, Mr. Abyssinia

In tonights performance, the roll of Mr. Abyssinia will be played his oft aim-deprived understudy, Mr. Crompton.

by CincySooner on Aug 25, 2009 2:35 PM EDT reply actions  

Well, the Dawgs are doomed in Stillwater. The prowess on display there . . . there’s just no way a middling SEC team could compete at that breakneck pace. . .

by Gen. Stoopnagle on Aug 25, 2009 2:42 PM EDT reply actions  

6

Beat me to it. However, I’ll take Lord Kitchener’s Camel Corps in a rout over the Sudan U. Whirling Dervishes.

by yoyofutbawl on Aug 25, 2009 2:51 PM EDT reply actions  

Hold on…

So did any of this actually happen or not?

I don’t know who to believe anymore.
You bloggers are ruining everything.

(spell check thinks I should replace that with “b loggers.” My computer is a dumbass.)

by Kecalf Bailey on Aug 25, 2009 2:54 PM EDT reply actions  

Sooner-
Crompton will be much improved this year. You heard it here!

by Vol on Aug 25, 2009 2:55 PM EDT reply actions  

Double fact check: Mike Leach wasn’t even alive in 1885!

by Orson Swindle on Aug 25, 2009 2:56 PM EDT reply actions  

Dare I ask the meaning of, “be a Chinaman about it”? Leach should really embrace this persona and start sporting formalwear on the sidelines.

by Double Eagle on Aug 25, 2009 2:57 PM EDT reply actions  

all big 12 posts from this point forward should be done in this manner.

by iggy on Aug 25, 2009 3:07 PM EDT reply actions  

I love these detestable Mr. Leach pieces. Makes me want to break out my P.G. Wodehouse (even if that postdates all this).

by MJG on Aug 25, 2009 3:29 PM EDT reply actions  

The opposing punters shall meet their Isandlwana and Khyber Pass, respectively. I’ll abscond with the 6 and lay sixpence. Their fortune recedes like a Hapsburg’s chin.

by Scipio Tex on Aug 25, 2009 3:52 PM EDT reply actions  

@10

Everything happened just the way Orson described, except for the stuff that was wrong.

The detestable Mr. Leach? Mr. Abyssinia? Mr. Bummercund? All actual historical figures.

(A little-known bit of sports trivia is that Mr. Leach invented “the spread.”)

by An 'eer with a beer on Aug 25, 2009 3:54 PM EDT reply actions  

I still say we break out the cravats and top hats for a Vanderbilt game. Huzzah! Plutocrats for Footballing!

by Harris on Aug 25, 2009 4:18 PM EDT reply actions  

The Detestable Mr. Leach came on Arkansas Sports Radio today and he was everso humorous.

I’ll post a link later for more in the mind of Mr. Leach.

by Speed on Aug 25, 2009 5:12 PM EDT reply actions  

My girlfriend (LSU fan) is daring me to get a monocle for tailgating at Vandy game here in Baton Rouge in 2 weeks. Not sure what I did to her to make her want so bad for me to get my ass kicked. Still, it might be fun (the monocle, not the getting-my-ass-kicked-by-lunatic-yelling-“Tiger Bait!”).

by My real name is Dick Whitman on Aug 25, 2009 6:40 PM EDT reply actions  

Honestly I could give a rat’s ass about college football, but the writing here has me coming back. Also the world needs more Digital Viking. My nomination for the next one: Dr. Leonid Rogozov who at age 27 while stationed in Antarctica, removed his own appendix. I don’t know anything else he ever did, but that is enough.

by 77south on Aug 25, 2009 7:02 PM EDT reply actions  

That is some of the funniest shit I have ever seen.

by Irish09 on Aug 25, 2009 9:13 PM EDT reply actions  

Be a Chinaman about it….
Dear God you are a poet Swindle!!! I need a T-shirt with this on it.

by BurritoBrosShits on Aug 25, 2009 9:58 PM EDT reply actions  

Reginald, oh Reginald…..

….I disagree!

by Spazzy Mcgee on Aug 26, 2009 12:14 AM EDT reply actions  

Chinese Gordon wasn’t worth the camels.

One of the commanders of the relief expedition was the splendidly alcoholic General Redvers Buller VC, a prototype digital viking if ever there was one.

Being partial to champagne and fighting in the desert he personally hired 48 camels to carry the Veuve Cliquot to see him through the three month campaign. At four cases per camel that suggests a mighty thirst.

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Redvers_Buller

by Do you like Kipling? on Aug 26, 2009 7:41 AM EDT reply actions  

To be fair, the line above was that Pasteur had “conquered” those viruses and not “discovered” them. Worth a quibble as well but, heh….

More importantly, yeah, yeah, the Brits. Bah, we beat them at Tamai and then the next year Abu Klea despite their “Square Formation.”

Fuzzy-Wuzzy
(Any topic that can include both Heinlein and Kipling is genius)

by Fuzzy-Wuzzy (aka PalmettoTiger) on Aug 26, 2009 9:40 AM EDT reply actions  

Wot, wot… The Detestable Mr Leach needs to ask the Minister about the Schifflen plan or we can kiss the Champagne region in France good bye.

by pfhokie abides on Aug 26, 2009 10:47 AM EDT reply actions  

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