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|Name:||Cognosce Te Ipsum aka Frater G.T.A.|
|Bio:||The Supreme Grand Master rapped his gavel for attention. The room shuffled into some sort of circle.|
"I call the Unique and Supreme Lodge of the Elucidated Brethren to order," he intoned. "Is the Door of Knowledge sealed , fast against heretics and knowlessmen?"
"Stuck solid," said Brother Doorkeeper. "It's the damp. I'll bring my plane in next week, soon have it — "
"All right, all right," said the Supreme Grand Master testily. "Just a yes would have done. Is the triple circle well and truly traced? Art all here who Art Here? And it be well for an knowlessman that he should not be here, for he would be taken from this place and his gaskin slit, his moules shown to the four winds, his welchet torn asunder with many hooks and his figgin placed upon a spike yes what is it?"
"Sorry, did you say Elucidated Brethren?"
The Supreme Grand Master glared at the solitary figure with its hand up.
"Yea, the Elucidated Brethren, guardian of the sacred knowledge since a time no man may wot of — "
"Last February," said Brother Doorkeeper helpfully. The Supreme Grand Master felt that Brother Doorkeeper had never really got the hang of things.
"Sorry. Sorry. Sorry," said the worried figure. "Wrong society, I'm afraid. Must have taken a wrong turning. I'll just be going, if you'll excuse me..."
"And his figgin placed upon a spike," repeated the Supreme Grand Master pointedly, against a background of damp wooden noises as Brother Doorkeeper tried to get the dread portal open. "Are we quite finished? Any more knowlessmen happened to drop in on their way somewhere else?" he added with bitter sarcasm. "Right. Fine. So glad. I suppose it's too much to ask if the Four
Watchtowers are secured? Oh, good. And the Trouser of Sanctity, has anyone bothered to shrive it? Oh, you did. Properly? I'll check, you know ... all right. And have the windows been fastened with the Red Cords of Intellect, in accordance with ancient prescription? Good. Now perhaps we can get on with it."
With the slightly miffed air of one who has run their finger along a daughter-in-law's top shelf and found against all expectation that it is sparkling clean, the Grand Master got on with it.
Terry Prattchett 'Guards! Guards!'
|Account type:||Free User|