Chapter 37 - Prime Pork Number

Just when I thought stuff was getting really exciting, I notice an alarming lack of spare pages in this diary of mine. It is far gone from the original claim of virginity (I am still talking about the originally empty diary). Something must be done about that!

Several potential 'solutions' can be dismissed. Writing smaller would render the remaining chapters illegible and thus meaningless to everyone but myself, especially when considering the average quality of my handwriting. Writing between the lines and in the margins of already filled pages might work if I could work out a way to register the order in which to read each separate line. So no, not that. Maybe upside-down would work? Nah...

That leaves buying a new empty diary. Given my perception of the financial capabilities of the average student (I am not considering myself an average student yet, but that doesn't make it better) this might be too much of an investment (For now). I think I need to save for the potentially massive drinks bill of my introduction /initiation camp. Detail translation of the clay tablet may give me a better idea of the kind of budget we are talking about. I'll do that next Sunday. (Camp seems to be on Monday, as far as I could tell at first glance)

Maybe the library can help me out. They must have a stationary cupboard I can use. Problem is, that new Librariampire gives me the Willies. Let's go and see if we still have any garlic left in the kitchen drawer.

As I walked past the newsagents on my way to the Library, the headlines caught my eye.

MEGA HEIST FOILED!

WILL MONA LISA EVER SMILE AGAIN?

ELDERLY LADY TRIED TO IMPROVE HER PENSION PLAN BUT FAILED!

I wonder if they are referring to the alleged Unicorn incident... Librarianing might be more adventurous than I originally anticipated. Maybe it is good to have a look into my insurance coverage when I get home (IF I get home).

Sneaking into the Library with a makeshift garlic necklace around my neck and a sharpened carpenter's pencil in my hand (the next best thing to a wooden stake), there was no sign of the slick guy. Just to be sure, I also checked the vaulted ceiling for any batlike creatures. Unless the guy had a degree in practical stealth technology, he appeared to be not there.

Because there was no obvious stationary cupboard in the vicinity of the Librarian's desk, I decided to venture deeper into the dusty depths of the personnel-only area. Pushing through an ancient oak-panelled door I heard an ominous CLICK when it shut behind me.

Light would be useful now. Maybe I should have brought my phone. That has a light on it.

Ouch..... CRAAAASSSHHH!!

Why do we store a full plate armour in this place? At least, that was what it sounded like when I bumped into it. Can't think of anything else producing a sound like that, apart from a meteor strike on a cutlery factory perhaps. But that would have felt differently, so armour it is.

Maybe I should try and put it on, before something damages me instead. How hard can it be, in pitch darkness, without a diagram of what goes where?

Hmpf! This bit is too tight, so it probably shouldn't go there. Alternatively, it could be the wrong size harness altogether. Like for a kid or a really small person. This breastplate suggests female. If it is indeed a breastplate...

Wait!?

Are those footsteps I hear? Now that's scary. Should I call out? That could be a mistake, but let's do it anyway. As a compromise, I will call out very quietly.

I whispered: 'who goes there?'

This was answered with: 'Hush!, I can't hear where I'm going if you make such a racket, boy.'

Annoyed, I replied: 'Who's calling me boy? I do happen to go to university next week, you know?'

I didn't like the dusty chuckle in the voice saying: 'Ah, that remains to be seen. So you managed to recognise and translate the invitation then? Took me ages to rebuild the Braille machine to write cuneiform instead.'

'How would you know me? You can't even see me in this darkness, unless you have infravision, in which case I am officially jealous.'

'That's because I wouldn't be able to see you if this room was lit by a supernova either. I'm blind, you know. On the other hand, I could hear the sweat running out of your pores like with any other student-to-be. Nice touch with the garlic. Doesn't work on me though. I prefer anchovies anyway'

'You wouldn't happen to know where I can find the stationary cupboard around here do you? I am running out of diary space for this story of mine. You wouldn't want to not be in it because I've run out of paper, do you?'

'Is that all? Didn't you come in here to discover the darkest secrets of the multiverse? Don't you want to find the source of all knowledge or my memoirs? Those last two are nearly interchangeable anyway..'

'Ehhhmmm... Nope. A fresh new diary will do...'

'What are you, a Barbarian pig?'

'No, I am SPARROWHAWK! Brother of the infamous Robyn Hoodie!

My foot caught on something heavy metal that turned out to be a two-handed great sword. When I eventually managed to pick it up, I screamed: 'PREPARE TO...!!!!!!!'

(Lack of diary space means I can't tell you what happened next. Sorry about that. If you wonder how I managed to write this comment without leftover space... Well it would be rude not to).

Caiman Raptor Elk

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