Anchor Road
Place
Financial axis of Sir Hearty Luncheon’s Bristol. Money is bought and sold here with the solemnity elsewhere reserved for sacraments.
Appears in
Connections
Who is found here
- Francis MacMahon visited by (1 passage)
- Lord Snatch visited by (1 passage)
- Sir Hearty Luncheon workplace of (2 passages)
From the books (6 passages)
…cigar-smoking luminary of a vey well-known Trotskyite rape cult, who had found himself embarrassed at the casino in Anchor Road. The management of this establishment proved predictably obdurate in response to Mr Roger Buggery’s abject, cringing intervention, insisting vey reasonably on being furnished with tangible collateral before suffering the fedora-wearing, cigar-smoking Trotskyite rape cult luminary to assay further his fortunes at roulette or blackjack. Mr Roger Buggery had in consequence…
…Milord Handjob is ever and always in Palm Springs, and Sir Hearty, you know, he is only in Anchor Road, but he is ever and always busy with his investissements. Perhaps the Inhalis, you know, Sir Gerald and Lady Valerie, will grant you an audience. Leur fils Vladimir, je rappelle que tu as eu l’honneur de sa connaissance, n’est-ce pas?”
By a considerable margin, the most disgusting of the visitors to the Pierpont Morgan of Anchor Road were Mr Francis MacMahon and Lord Snatch, who sought an audience together. Concerning the latter, while he may not have been a barbarian by birth, he most certainly was one by adoption. For, much as William of Wykeham would have it that manners makyth man, so most assuredly and ineluctably doth the absence…
Sir Hearty Luncheon knew perfectly well that in certain circles he was derogated as the Pierpont Morgan of Anchor Road. Having always felt that he was better fitted to a wider stage, Sir Hearty was on account of this and other soubriquets a martyr to resentment, inasmuch as he never did bear the cant, and recoiled from the implications which such dubbings bore of pettifogging and provincialism.
Sir Hearty Luncheon, brooding in his business suite or inner sanctum or Holy of Holies in Anchor Road, most certainly did peep through lattices of eyes, and most diligently had learned by circuit and collection to discern. Late into the night, he watched the green figures marching across the screen, listlessly bought and frenetically sold indeterminately identified parcels of money, answered after a delay “come!” to the discreet knocks and…
…the Avon, past the jutting prow of Pex ’n’ Quads, underneath the new apartment blocks, turned right into Anchor Road, depositing the Pierpont Morgan thereof very smartly upon thereof the pavement.