Sunday, September 17, 2006
My eyes! The citrus stingeth so!
Patroclus pointed out that they would be called 'Tactickal Kittes' (also a good name for a seventeenth century secret agent), and her further discussion with Mrs Patroclus Snr determined that such a thing would have to include the following:
A box of matches.
A pomander (some confusion as to what a pomander actually is, although dictionary.com defines it as primarily as "a mixture of aromatic substances, often in the form of a ball, formerly carried on the person as a supposed guard against infection but now placed in closets, dressers, etc..") I thought this was what it was, but I decided to check, in case it turned out to be a small country, or a sense of impending ennui or something, but it wasn't, so that's good.
I would add to this list:
A brace of sawn-off matchlocks.
A stinky brooch (for planting on suspects and then tracking their progress by looking out for people shouting 'Pooooh! There goes Sir Stinke, up to no good, I'll be bound, egad' and that sort of thing).
A bulletproof periwig.
Also, the Tactikcal Kitte would look like a viol case (apparently a 'viola' case is an anachonism - this could clearly bring the whole Flintpunk project crashing down around our powdered ears, well spotted PP!).
And, my pomader would be a dried orange studded with cloves, only if you press the cloves in the correct sequence, it TURNS INTO A GRENADE.
Also, on an unrelated topic apart from general silliness, Mitchell and Webb's bit about the under-researched medical drama which had lines likes 'Give me the kind of medicine that makes you better if you have the specific illness it was designed for, but it bit worse if you have another kind of illness entirely' and 'oh no, he is poorly from the wrong kind of electric' was just lovely. I also very much enjoyed the closing banana dance.
ALSO: Apologies to anyone directed here from the Wall Street Journal - clearly there has been a terrible mistake. Although because the site is subscription-only, I have no way of knowing what it said. But anyway, sorry.