The harlequin Hieronymus staggered about under a big pile of Big Issues, which to his ever increasing chagrin never would diminish. Nor was this his only burden, for he felt himself much under the injunction of the Mayor (whose avenging beak he feared) to, in his own words, zeek out the dorking bird, green and blue and vuckin' brown. To this purpose, he instigated a distinctly Teufelsdröckhish wandering about town. —
Hieronymus, Teufelsdröckhish
His first port of call, and one to which he not infrequently returned was the municipal zoo, on that Northern edge of Clifton Village lying just beneath the lip of Durdon Downs. There, not having the wherewithal to effect ingress to that establishment, he loitered about the entrance in his customary role of disgustingly bohemian troubadour, accosting the civilians who emerged thence, and admixing his unaccountably patronising requests for pennies for the juggler with discreet enquiries as to whether those good citizens had scoped within that self-same bird, dorking, and green and blue and vuckin' brown. But those good people only shook their heads at him, and frowned, and entreated the children with them not to talk to the funny man. —
Clifton
He staggered also back and forth between the pet emporia which abound in our city. In this connection, he was oft to be observed, irritating hippy hat tilted against the slanting rain, limping along a concrete canyon out in Filton, or past the cloying arcades lining Bedminster Parade, or through some dilapidated Knowle West slum; then pushing through the doors of whichever bestiary was his destination, in order to enquire within whether the proprietor had heard tell of, or even - God save us! - had pass through his hands that identical dorking bird, green and blue and vuckin' brown. —
Bedminster Parade, Knowle West, Filton
Mr Francis MacMahon, midstream now, chortled in the privacy of his cerebellum, and considered that there could be no harm, at any rate to his personal interests, in answering the question with one of his own. —
Francis MacMahon
“Yonder Zitty Council poncemaker, Dr Wankstain, yonder gentleman that disburzeth the truffles, ’ad that scotch-dorking bird hoff me, vor a consideration.” —
Dr Mark Wankstain
Hieronymus, considering that a drowning man must clutch at the most meagre straw which capricious Poseidon deigns to blow his way, concluded that he might reasonably overlook the scotch-dorking aspect of things. The noon following, the casual loungers and schizophrenic petitioners who hung about the place were treated to the edifying spectacle of that tatterdemalion fellow marching into City Hall by the front gate, and discombobulating the receptionists there by his peremptory demands to be admitted into the Mayoral presence, so that he might communicate the intelligence about the dorking bird, withal omitting the diverse lacunae regarding variegation and the scotch style of dorking. His direct approach was, inevitably, unavailing in that House of Circumlocution. Finding himself very expeditiously driven thence by the staves of the resident beadles and the distinctly uncircumlocutory execrations of the Tite Barnacles of the place, he lay for some minutes upon the lawn of College Green, stunned by the visceral nature of his novel insight into the mechanisms whereby authority is exercised. At length, he recollected his scattered wits and peeled himself off the greensward - a measure necessitated by the presence thereon of certain marks of canine with adhesive properties - and made his disconsolate way back through town, his object very predictably being the toper’s pitstop upon Turbo Island. —
Hawksmoor Perroquet, City Hall
Newly replete with indignation he took wing once more, and flapped away back to City Hall, determining that he would confront Dr Mark Wankstain in the role of wronged father, and simultaneously effect the long sought reunification with the fruit of his loins. —
City Hall
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