AAR Salute 2016, 'The Adventures of Paul Darke.' Episode II

[Damas]

Setting the scene:

In the county of Dorset, on a southerly road is the small fishing port of Lower Snatch, a damp place known for its crabs. Along the coastal paths leading up from Lower Snatch lies the hamlet of Far Corfe, twinned with the town of Schteidere in Lower Saxony.
In the centre of Far Corfe sits the Dolphin, a pub of ill repute, where our protagonist Paul Darke is perched, awaiting his daily portion of crabs from the Publicans daughter.

The port of Lower Snatch.


The coast and Far Corfe.


A group of ne'er do wells.


The thin red line of Dragoons.


The Revenue Men, roused from their drinks at the Dolphin.


The Manor, home to the local noble.


The mounted Dragoon contingent, fresh on the road from Upper Snatch.


The main square of Lower Snatch.

[OSHIROmodels]

A bit misty that day then 

cheers

James

[Damas]

(You want a sunny day in 1700's England?)

Dramatis Personae:

The mounted Dragoons are kept firmly in hand by Lt. Josiah Softlove.
Dismounted, the rest are led by Sgt. Ruffbrute.

Jeremiah Darby and Abraham Gray lead a group of laid off ex-confectioners into the murky world of exotic animal importing, the fudge packers are now budgie smugglers.

John Knill and Captain Clegg lead a humourless group of slightly inebriated Revenue Men to grab the budgie smugglers on the beach in the act.

Lord Weymouth and Magistrate Mohune are in his garden, sowing their seed and helping the maid trim her bush.
Lord Weymouth's slattern of a son, Tarquin, is abroad on the land, possibly doing something contrary to his position as a nobleman's son.

Parson Robinson sits in his church and plays with his organ, entertaining the choirboy and awaiting the opportune arrival of the budgie smugglers.

Last but not least, the naval brig HMS Rampant Mackerel has slid into the moist embrace of Lower Snatch under the watchful gaze of Captain Blowhard.  Lacking sufficient seamen, he has Midshipman Obediah Pinkflute lead some crew on into town to press some men.


The scene is set, the game begins as the sun drops toward the horizon.


Darby leads his crew from the safety of the church as Gray gets his budgies up off the beach.

John Knill begins by rousting his men from the Dolphin, the job of hunting these ex-fudge packers charged to him by Magistrate Mohune.



Satisfied that his will is discharged, the Magistrate and Lord Weymouth occupy themselves with the maids topiary and planting some seed.



The Parson continues with his organ and Sgt. Ruffbrute has his men up the lane.



Lt. Softlove and his custom padded saddle urges him men toward Lower Snatch, muttering "Ooh, me bloody piles." as he goes.



Coming up the rear, Midshipman Pinkflute pushes his seamen up into Lower Snatch, snatching some locals as he goes.



Here endeth the turn.  The rest tomorrow as I'm knackered.

[Ragnar]

Very excellent!  Fun read so far.   

[Belisarius]

Yes I,ll second that, more please. I,ve been trying to recall the old smugglers poem we were taught at school, " brandy for the Parson " was a line from it.

[Furt]

Of all this silly sauciness, Midshipman Pinkflute and his seamen have to be my favorite.  

I wonder will he withdraw from Lower Snatch in time?  

[Mad Lord Snapcase]

Great stuff! More please....................... 

[Malamute]

Of all this silly sauciness, Midshipman Pickflute and his seamen have to be my favorite. 

I wonder will he withdraw from Lower Snatch in time? 

 

[Captain Blood]

Very good report so far Kev.
You could almost believe there was a real game going on - as opposed to the occasional desultory rearrangement of the figures on the tabletop...

Yes I,ll second that, more please. I,ve been trying to recall the old smugglers poem we were taught at school, " brandy for the Parson " was a line from it.

It's Kipling... 'The Smugglers' (or something like that)

Five and twenty ponies trotting through the dark - Brandy for the Parson, 'Baccy for the Clerk.
Them as asks no questions isn't told no lie. Watch the wall my darling while the Gentlemen go by.

[Phil Robinson]

Nice pics and a fine narrative of which Finbar Saunders would be proud of.

Carry on.

[Silent Invader]

Carry On Down in Dawsett

Softlove gets about a bit.

Great reporting   

[Doug ex-em4]

Excellent in every way. Did I spot one or two double entendres in there....? 

Doug

[Ray Earle]

Excellent in every way. Did I spot one or two double entendres in there....? 

Nah. Must've been your imagination Doug.   

Great pics and an interesting AAR so far.

[Damas]

Thanks chaps!

Back to our protagonists.

Parson Robinson gets the choirboys' soft hands on his old dry leather and gets him to pump away giving more power to his organ.
As the wails of an old organ being pushed to its limits drifts across the cliff tops, the Magistrate and Lord Weymouth have finished with the maids bush and gather themselves with a cheeky sherry.
Captain Clegg leads the Revenue Men to a likely spot in the bushes to look for budgie smugglers, Abraham Gray spots the leaves rustling and thrusts his budgies behind the nearest hovel.



Innocent to all this is the Publicans wife, Old Fanny, hard of sight and harder of hearing, tries to milk the cow, pulling on the one big teat hanging down.

Between the smugglers and the Revenue Men, ignorant of the larger world, docile in their squalor and muck, are Marky and Jimmy the pigs. Running off from all this commotion is little Tarquin Weymouth, with Markys' little porker grasped firmly in his hand.

Trotting along to make a personal call on Lord Weymouth and a more personal call to his maid, Lt. Softlove hears the beginnings of a commotion, glancing into the depths of Lower Snatch as Midshipman Pinkflute pushes the members of his crew onto four of the locals.  Only one had the state of mind to push back but the others were mostly double teamed.





With their asses covered, the budgie smugglers prepare to receive the Revenue Men and they oblige accordingly, letting off a massive load across the surprised faces of Marky and Jimmy.  Flinching a little bit, the smugglers wiped themselves down as they saw that not one Revenue Man had hit his mark. Their wives would be disappointed.



Lord Weymouth buttoned up his frock coat and headed out to where he could hear Lt. Softlove coming, the Magistrate pulled himself out of Lord Weymouths' back entrance and followed the Lord to Softlove.

Finished with his organ and tired choirboy in tow, the Parson minces outside to see what the commotion is.



Sgt. Ruffbrute hears the echoes of manly discharge and readies his men, getting their dander up for some "Ruff" action.



Realising something is up, most of the civilians make good and scatter, except Old Fanny who is still tugging at that obstinate teat and Tarquin who is running for Lower Snatch, porker in hand.

Darby sees the civilians go and urges his men into cover, one excited budgie smuggler runs straight to Marky as he spies an opportunity for some impromptu pig wrestling, his colleague chasing after him - to stop or join in, we know not.



Gray sees that Darby's asses are covered and gets his men to join the fight against the Revenue Men.
Softlove greets the Lord and Magistrate with a wave of his scented hanky and a piles induced wince as his horse stumbles on a cobble.

Enter the Navy, Pinkflute to the fore as he grasps a likely member.

"You're mine now, boy. Who's your daddy?" He whispers into his victim's ear.
"L-Lord Weymuff." Lisps Tarquin, squeezing his wriggling porker more firmly.
"........shit."


More to come....

[OSHIROmodels]

"........shit."