The Giant Rat of Sumatra Part XIII

Hemlock the Magician carried Vittoria Donna Gina back to her dressing room on the circus grounds in Stamford's Meadows along the Welland.

He reached into her cabinet and pulled out a huge brown bottle of her medication.

Inside the bottle was an iodine red looking colour that was horrible to the taste.

Nevertheless Vittoria drank.

She then collapsed into a deep sleep.


* * *



Later that afternoon, London's travelling comb and hairbrush salesman Theodore Wilson (who was staying at the George Inn on the other side of the Welland River in Stamford) visited the circus grounds.

He entered the tent of one of the Spanish gypsy dancers- figuring it was the lovely brunette gypsy he had made out with last night when Sherlock Holmes had inadvertently walked in on them.

But no! It was a beautiful blonde Spanish gypsy dancer!

Now it just so happened that Wilson kept a gold sovereign in his pocket for emergencies so he handed the blonde gypsy a gold sovereign and she agreed to make out with him.

When he had finished making out and the blonde had fallen into a deep sleep from exhaustion, he then walked over to the next gypsy dancer's tent.

This wasn't the lovely brunette he had made out with last night either.

It turned out to be a lovely and breathtakingly beautiful redheaded Irish gypsy girl.

But fortunately for Mr. Theodore Wilson he had another gold sovereign in his pocket (after all, this was another emergency!) and he paid her.

She too made out with him.

After she had fallen asleep from exhaustion, Theodore left this tent and walked over to the next gypsy dancer's tent.

This was the tent of the lovely Spanish brunette gypsy dancer whom he had made out with in his room in the George Inn last night.

She was a freebie of course! (which was a good thing because he might need that last gold sovereign for an emergency in York!).

However the brunette was more virile than he was and it was Theodore Wilson who fell asleep exhausted in her tent.

The brunette put on her white top and purple dress and then went outside to give a performance- well another performance that is- one involving a different use for her legs.

When Theodore Wilson woke up, it was early evening.

As he got up to put his clothes on, he noticed a small black cat was staring at him.

The cat was looking at him with pure hatred in its eyes.

What's up with this cat? Theodore wondered.

"Here kitty, kitty, kitty," Theodore Wilson called to it.

The cat jumped up and savagely clawed to ribbons a certain part of Mr. Wilson's anatomy despite Wilson's screams for help and his unsuccessful efforts to get the cat off his favourite part of his anatomy.

As the cat jumped off Mr. Wilson's favourite part of his anatomy and ran out the tent door, Mr. Theodore Wilson was beside himself.

"My life is over," Wilson wept, "with my favourite part of my anatomy gone."

Wilson ran out of the tent naked.

He had no clothes, no combs, no brushes, or anything else for that matter that might be considered useful wares.

Wilson ran over to the cage of Krakatoa the Sumatran tiger.

He stuck his head in through a fairly large hole in the cage through which the handlers placed the tiger's food.

"Eat me, eat me, eat me," he begged Krakatoa.

Finally Krakatoa let out a large roar and came over and did just that.

He bit off Wilson's head at the place of the jugular vein in the neck and started chewing on it and eating it.

Later the tiger vomited.

He found Wilson's head to be about as palatable to his stomach as circus performers felt the circus cook's attempt at French onion soup to be as palatable to their stomaches.

As for Theodore Wilson, travelling comb and brush salesman and all round totally obsessed sex maniac, his epitaph might well have been, "He lived for pussy. He died for pussy."


To be continued.