The Misadventures of Shylock Hapless

By John Gerard Sapodilla

(from Shylock Hapless and the Case of the Missing Piglets)

My dear Hapless,
I am obliged to write to you by an unfortunate, indeed I may say painful, occurrence.
The piglets are disappearing.
As you will recall, my piglets are free to roam during the day, under the supervision of my trusty swineherd who is alerted by their grunting should a wrongdoer hove into view. Towards sunset my 100 piglets go to their sty to sleep. For ventilation in the sty there are small windows which are at some considerable height. The only door is closed by a strong, heavy lock. The following morning the piglets come out one by one and are counted. Unfortunately, every last week in the month, or the first week in the following month, there is always one missing. I have put guards on the door at night and I assure you that not even the skinniest piglet could possibly be taken out by the window without first being made into sausages.

Archibald Oliver Everybottom.

• Language: English
• Publisher: John Gerard Sapodilla
• Release date: Jun 30, 2015
• ISBN: 9781310486807

John Gerard Sapodilla

Mi hanno detto che sapevo scrivere e io ci ho creduto.Il Cuoco del Miramare e L’uovo SbattutoIl cuoco non può sopportare zio Filippo, E’ un istinto naturale, sentimento diffuso tra i nipoti che hanno la sventura di uno zio di successo. Zio Filippo da parte sua non fa che rendere peggiore la situazione, col suo comportamento immobile da dietro il vetro tenuto dalla cornice, sarcastico fissa suo nipote. Zio Filippo è il cordone blu della famiglia, chef reclamato e blandito dai ristoranti di Parigi, Londra, New York, per l’insuperabile supremo medaglione alle erbe di Provenza in crema ai tre formaggi svizzeri.Come ogni mattina, prima di uscire al lavoro, il cuoco si mette in testa il cilindro da chef e al collo il cordone blu, si ammira tra estasiato e invidioso allo specchio, rimette a post e prende la porta. Anche lui un giorno avrebbe avuto un gilet e un orologio d’oro con catena come il fottuto Filippo.Quante volte, nel giorno di chiusura, furtivo e di soppiatto, il cuoco è andato alla cucina del Miramare a provare la ricetta del medaglione: tante volte le galline convocate all’assaggio ci hanno raspettato con le zampette per allontanarsi scotendo il capo.Tutte le creature hanno il loro segreto, la vergogna nascosta del cuoco è il guscio dell’uovo. Per fare l’uovo sbattuto è necessario frangere il guscio sull’orlo del bicchiere che accoglierà la chiara. Non si può fare altrimenti. Questa operazione causa una frattura nel sistema nervoso del cuoco, gli trema la mano.Per porre rimedio, egli a messo a punto un metodo innovativo. Aperto lo sportellino di una stia, la gallinella salta giù e si allontana disinvolta, il calcio nel sedere del cuoco la sorprende innocente, crack.

Book preview

The Misadventures of Shylock Hapless

John Gerard Sapodilla

English version revised by Fiona Wensley

William L. Story & J J Piglet

Sir Cyrillus and Lady Ethelberta

Shylock Hapless and the Revenge of Patricia Hardy

Shylock Hapless and the Case of the Meatballs in Tomato Sauce

Shylock Hapless and the Case of the Missing Piglets

Shylock Hapless and the Perfect Crime

Shylock Hapless and a Pig Called Romeo

Shylock Hapless and the Wrong Address

Shylock Hapless and the White Devil

Shylock Hapless and the Case of the Missing Chickens

Shylock Hapless and the Case of the Umbrella

Shylock Hapless and the Disappearance of Eleanor Smith

Shylock Hapless and the Victims in the Armchair

The Revenge of Sir Archibald Oliver

The Murder of Aunt Camilla

Sir Archibald Delves into Politics

Under the Tent

Olaf

Armand and Margherite

I am Staying on in Moscow, Ivan Ivanovic

I promised to be good for the tenth time. Accordingly, I told Fifth Floor Ms Penbleton how smart she looked with that cap on her head. She laughed and squirmed.

And I patted Ms Garlic ’s derriere, knowing how much she had been longing for that. Pity that ass not my type.

Comment

The Wolf of the Apartment Block, I can just imagine the gossip when you climb in the lift with all those vulnerable ladies. I can almost hear their squeals!!

I know nothing about marrons. Here we Brits harden them in vinegar and use them as weapons in school. Beware the conker (J J Piglet)

Sir Cyrillus and Lady Ethelberta

John Gerard Sapodilla

J J Piglet

The stranger in rags

Sir Archibald was reading 'Never Add a Scottish Pig to Your Breed' when Pimps entered the studio.

Do we feed any Scottish pigs, Pimps?

Unfortunately, yes we do, Sir.

How are things between him and the other pigs?

He does not fit in with them, he always complains about something. And how in the Highlands the air is fresh, and how in the Highlands the acorns are tastier. Shall I call in the butcher for him?

"No way, you know how it works. The Duke and the Duchess of Glasgow would pay us their annual visit. A stovepipe hat on his head, a large straw one on hers. Absentmindedly, he will ask me:

Are there any Scottish pigs in your herd, Lord Everybottom?

I understand, Sir.

Thank you, Pimps. Any news.

Yes, sir. A man unshaved and in rags knocked at the door.

Bring him down to the kitchen as usual.

I did, sir.

And?

In a few well-chosen words, Pimps summarised the painful case of the stranger in rags:

He said he was Sir Cyrillus Everybottom. He called me Good Pimps. He chomped and swallowed twelve sausages and advised me he was not in, should a solicitor ask of him. In the kitchen, he made a marriage proposal to our cook Dorothea. The cook replied she would ask your permission.

That’s Cyrillus for sure. You are the brains of the establishment Pimps. Have you any suggestions before he eats us out of house and home?

There is only one solution, sir. Sir Cyrillus should marry Lady Ethelberta Fannyflower.

Is she single, as far as we know?

Well, sir, the story is that one day her husband said ‘I’m gonna buy a box of cigars’ and disappeared for good. As the hereditary judge of the Shire, I presume your grace could deliberate and declare her to be a free bird.

What if her husband should reappear?

Bigamy is a felonious crime, sir. She will have to spend her days in a jail far from here.

Excellent, Pimps. Have my Cyrillus shaved and properly dressed then bring him here.

The two cousins

What bad luck and misfortune brought you here in rags, Cyrillus?

Oh, Archibald, you are asking me to remember bad memories. You know how it works. You kill an elephant and the Pigmeans ask you for a ransom. You marry a dozen African dancers and their families say you have to pay them alimony. You bet on horses and camels. You meet a poor girl who needs an umbrella in case it rains. You meet a burlesque dancer who likes diamonds. By the way, will you grant your cook permission to accept my proposal?

"I am afraid she has an habit of poisoning her hubbies. I agree you need a wife. Leave it to Pimps.

And who would be my bride, according to Pimps?

Pimps had an absolutely ripping idea. One of his best efforts to date. He chose Lady Ethelberta Fannyflower for you.

Sir Cyrillus made an objection.

"You may remember, Archie, when I was a kid I used to spend the summertime here at your estate. I used to go fishing and Ethelberta used to fish me,. This was the usual conversation between us:

‘Cyril hooks fish, Ethel hooks Cyril. You will have to marry me as soon as I am a girl, dear Cyrillus.’

‘You scared my fish, little idiot. I will stick my fishing rod up your ass.’

Then she would throw a sharp stone against my head. Time went by, One day the Fannyflowers invited me for lunch. After the first course I was notified I had made a proposal to Ethelberta and she had accepted. The next day I left for Africa where I became a hunter.

Sir Archibald paid great attention to his cousin’s words and offered him the final reply.

We’ll let Ethelberta know that you are another man now. A man that would be pleased to entertain her friends at tea time, and tell them about his adventures in Africa. As an alternative, you may mention my name to the Vicar of Saint Patrick's. The holy man will allow you to play the beggar on the steps outside the church.

Fishing

Cyrillus looked satisfied at his bucket full of fish. Nothing had changed. The good place to fish had remained the same. Dorothea the cook would have plenty of fresh fish to fry on charcoal.

Unfortunately, when you're leaving to go back home, with your fish still darting, there is always someone who wants to waste your time.

Help, help, the river is pulling me downstream.

The usual fake damsel who shouts to be saved. No one has ever drowned in this rivulet, thought Cyrillus.

Crazy idiot, I have the cramps, come and save me.

According to the rumours circulating around the tribes, white hunter Zyrillus had done nothing else but save all sorts of damsels from crocodiles in the Zambesi River. In a minute, the woman with cramp was brought ashore, dragging her along the river bottom.

Beautiful, it would be better for you to take off your bathing suit, and dry you down for good.

Cyrillus, you are not going to touch my bum. You should have married me if that is what you want.

I was not sure I recognized your voice, Ethelberta. So the cramping story was a trap.

My dear Cyrillus, my daughter Elisabeth is the unfortunate spouse of that crook Archibald Everybottom. I was informed of everything. You are walking in Archibald's shoes and sicophant Pimps chose me as your bride with a good dowry.

Cyrillus gave two pats to her bum with the palm of his hand:

Ethelberta, your ass is round and ripe, fit to receive the lashes from your bridegroom.

Lashes, Cyrillus?

There is not much fun in Africa. One of the favourite pastimes amongst the Africans is to whip their wives. There, a bride gets suspicious if she is not regularly whipped; may happen that her hubby goes outside and soon afterwards she hears the neighbour's wife beg for mercy. She knows the neighbour is not home. Crazy with jealousy she rushes to her mother in tears. As you know, Ethelberta I've been married in Africa a dozen times and I ended up acquiring that habit. Are you sure you want to marry me? Pimps may be looking for another wife for me. Leave it to Pimps

Forget the whip fairytale, Cyrillus- You are a miserable man, under my thumb. My friends are anxious to hear your adventures. Remember that in Africa there are no tigers or kangaroos. We will expect you at tea time. Pimps will find you suitable attire..

Meet Lady Amalia and her brothers

Finally, Lady Amalia Sailington decided that she wanted to marry. As for her three brothers’ opposition, she would board them on a ship to China. According to the Viking Law of Sea, the first born would inherit and rule everything. Once, in the dim and distant past the Sailingtons had been Vikings and Amalia was the first born. She had inherited a mercantile company with one hundred ships, after a tempest left her orphaned. You may bet her brothers tried everything to get rid of her. When she was a pretty girl, poets and painters would romantically court her, at least until their thumbs were broken in some mysterious accident.

Later, she had regular suitors. None were approved by her brothers.-

George had horrible pronunciation.

Captain Gaston did not really love her but rather her dowry.

Charlie was a commoner.

Anthony was a chief accountant at a bank. We don’t want him checking our account books with his greasy fingers.

One day the brothers tried a long shot.

Sister, you are wasting your time with ships, traders, bananas that get ripe during the trip, insurance, screwing captains and crews and tempests and waves. Did you ever consider becoming a Prioress?

She replied:

We are Vikings not Catholics. This cannot be.

They smiled and shook their heads:

We have acquaintances. We import cigars from Cuba, the Julieta Special for Cardinals only. Before the thunder follows the lightning, you are a prioress.  A prioress rides horseback in the park until lunchtime. Superb lunch. A nun backchats the Prioress and her ass is toasted on hot charcoal. Every day a Cardinal comes to ask  for advice. The Prioress said we have to do so-and-so. Every kind of king comes to the nunnery on a spiritual quest. You know what? All those tales about Kings and Prioress's are true. You know what we mean.

So one day Amalia went to the nunnery. A letter from the Cardinal in one hand and gifts to Mother Superior in the other. Mother Superior informed Amalia that she – the incumbent Prioress - was not going to retire the next day and that she, Amalia, should please to follow Sister Mistress. Wearing a white blouse only and carrying a bucket full of cold water, Amalia asked her Sister Mistress:

By chance, are we going to visit a thirsty Christian?

Sister Mistress took Amalia to a marble staircase and threw her a cloth. Amalia understood it was a test for her to be Prioress and washed up half a step."

Now we have lunch, Sister Mistress, right?

Sister Mistress replied coldly.

There is a spot on the half step you washed. Look closely.

Amalia was on her knees, ass on air. Sister Mistress raised Amalia’s blouse and slapped her ass.

Now you know why novices have to wear only a blouse.

Amalia took up the half empty bucket and pushed it tightly over the sister’s head.

Now you have a helmet and may go on a crusade. I am leaving, mind the steps.

At the gate the Warden Sister asked her hastily:

Where you going , dear? This is not a hotel.

Amalia informed her:

"Look up to the sky. Archangel Philip is pouring banknotes. And gave her a punch at her belly.

Meet Ms Precious Booty

Pimps, what's that coffee coloured child doing in the backyard under my studio window?

I do not see any mulatto, sir. I am going downstairs to investigate.

In fact, a hand had pulled the child back from the backyard. Ms Precious Booty yanked her son back into the kitchen.

Cyrillus, I suggest that you assist Pimps as an expert of African matters added Sir Archibald.

Now the kitchen door to the backyard opened, showing the cook Dorothea covered in flour.

Pimps, you are here at last. You and Sir Cyrillus can take away that fat black woman and her ten kids.

Suspicion appeared on Cyrillus's face:

What's the matter, Dorothea? Why did you put white flour over your head, instead of saving it for the cookies?

Blowing flour, Dorothea ignored him and turned to Pimps:

Pimps, this black woman, dressed with a long multicolour and inappropriate blouse, knocked at our front door. She talked about a certain White Hunter Zyrillus and says that the coffee coloured kids are his sons.

Sir Cyrillus moved to go.

I must hold a conference at the Club. Do not wait for me for dinner.

As soon as he tried to step away, Dorothea gripped his throat:

Where do you think you are going, Don Juan? My kitchen must be freed from those little bastards in ten minutes.

The African woman, almost as if by magic, pulled a battered photo from her multi-coloured blouse. She looked at Cyrillus, then at the photo and again at Cyrillus.

My name is Precious Booty. I have arrived from de Transvaal in search of de fata of my children, a certain Hunter Zyrillus.

Pimps asked to see the photo and then passed it over toCyrillus who shook his head. They had never seen that white hunter before.

Thanks to the sun of Africa and all his adventures, the present Cyrillus was a rather rough and tough fellow, decidedly different from the smart young guy in the photo. As for the name, there are so many Cyrillusis around the world.

Ms Precious Booty realized that now she owed an explanation:

Down dere in ma tribe, it happened dhat we read in ze newzpapa Hot Times about the engagement of a Sir Cyrillus and a certain Ethelberta. Well shaved, a good haircut and all, ze photo on ze newzpapa reminded me of my Zyrillus, who used to talk of a place called Gricklewood. Den I devised of coming here to zee how to put everything in order.

Better you ask her some questions, Pimps!

Tell me, dear, how long has it been since you last saw your Cyrillus?

Since de bastard decamped from de Transvaal with his gang of diamond thieves. Here, you look at dis oder photo. It's me. A bit changed perhaps zince den. I was sixteen years old. I was the zenter front Zulu dancer. I waz a cozy gal. I trusted that Zyrillus.

A busy Dorothea, who was moving the teacups from the left to the right and from the right to the left, could not restrain herself from looking at the photo.

Pimps, this girl in the photo is bare-breasted. The cook shot an expression of disgust at Cyrillus, which foreboded a future perhaps deprived of sweets and pies. The mean man looked for shelter behind Pimps. Heedless of the storm, Pimps continued asking questions:

Dear, I noticed that your ten little devils are all approximately the same age. Perhaps you have something to tell us in this connection?

Well, I must confez dat Number One's father iz certainly dat Zyrillus. I dink instead that Number Two looks like a zertain sailor Roach. Az for ze last other eights, dey are sons of ma sistas. You zee, down dere in ma tribe we would want de boys to rezeive de best education in a school here in England. For de enrolment it iz suitable to have an English fata. Therefore I have remembered dat Zyrillus.

For a second or two, Sir Cyrillus was tempted to show himself as the Hunter Zyrillus and get rid of Ethelberta, but the idea of carrying on a common life with a black lardy ball made him give up.

Meanwhile, looking down from his studio window, Sir Archibald was noticing, with most of his attention, that kid Number One was riding his favourite pig. He seemed to recognise a likeness in him, temperamentally too. The other African kids were playing merry-go-round with the pigs and even talking to them. Alas, England needs fresh blood, young boys who love pigs not salami, Sir Archibald told himself .

At this point, is there nothing left but a farewell?

Gentlemen, I am zorry for having bothered you. It waz all a story of mistaken identity. Above all, I am deeply concerned that your kitchen haz been disordered. I hope I may find elzewhere a respectable white fata to be introduced to ze headmasters of your schools.

Now Sir Archibald talked in a strong and clear voice, as only an Everybottom could:

I am adopting your kids, Ms Booty. They will attend the best school. I will pay for everything. Please, accept accommodation in my mansion.

She returned a merry smile:

Sir Archibald, you are a gentleman and we surely accept to be honoured of sleeping under de Everybottoms’ roof. Here iz a diamond to compensate your cook. Oh, Ms Dorothea, you are not to thank me, I have just deposited a full bag of diamonds down in a bank, and it is for the education of ze kids. I am Princess Precious Booty; one day I will be Queen of ze Zulu.

Sir Cyrillus fainted.

The taming of Lady Ethelberta

Lady Ethelberta was having visions in the night. Sir Cyrillus was riding a camel through the searing heat of the thirsty desert. Shameless Arab hussies were dancing for him at every oasis, showing him their bellies. This time she had to be careful. She had to be informed of everything. She didn’t want Cyrillus to disappear unnoticed, like he did thirty two years ago, when she was a teenager. To cover up the scandal, she had to marry that cigar trader. She needed a spy. The only available decent spy was Pimps, whom she summoned under some pretext or other.

Welcome to my humble house, Pimps. A slice of apple pie? A glass of Port Wine? Please, have all the bottle, if you wish. So, how are going things with Sir Archibald and the pigs?

Pimps tried not to yawn. He knew everything about ladies showing sudden interest in a butler.

Lady A – Dear butler, I would like to paint all the rooms pink. May I count on your support? Your approval will not go unnoticed.

Lady B – My good butler, as you know my husband, Lord B has a new pet. It’s a big tortoise. Could you manage to make the creature disappear? May I suggest broth for dinner? Since her arrival Lord B does not show any interest in my conversation.

Lady C – My beloved butler, a friend of mine, who prefers not to be named, is interested in the magazine 'French Ladies'. Could you get a copy of the June Issue?

Accustomed as he was to ladies’ lunacy and vagaries, Pimps knew that if you give them an inch they would take a mile. Better to go straight-

Good morning, Lady Ethelberta. May I respectfully ask you what’s going on in your mind today?

Oh, Pimps, there was some misunderstanding between you, Lady Elisabeth and I. It’s over. No need to be rude. What news from the land of Sir Archibald?

No good news for you, sorry. Apparently Sir Cyrillus had affairs under any banana tree in Africa. One of those affair is now the welcome guest of Sir Archibald, staying in his mansion.

Pimps, I need your suggestion, support and advice. I am informed that you are an expert when it comes to ladies’ underwear. It happens I am going to marry Sir Cyrillus, I am reading An Handbook on Perfect Wife. It says that choosing the proper underwear is a prerequisite for a happy marriage. A mistake and your partner goes under a banana tree. Now, everybody knows that you and my Cyrillus are sort of buddies, I presume that ladies’ underwear are a regular topic of conversation among buddies. Now, now, for a better understanding what do you think about my pants?

She raised her skirt and Pimps played the expert.

Would you please bend over, milady?

With his surprise she bent over.

I am deeply concerned, milady, that your panties may not tease a gentleman of knowledge and experience. Your underwear look country, local, even parochial. As you possibly know, I have collected all kind of pants in my career as a butler. I’ll bring you the right ones. Not for free of course,

Oh, thank you, Pimps. How many Guinee for the Pimps’s special pants?

I don’t sell pants, Ethelberta. I want your submission."

Address me as Lady Ethelberta. And another thing, Would you like to meet Ferocious, my per dog? The beast likes to bite the postman’s ankle and to crack the Butler’s bones.

Ethelberta, I thought you needed to be informed about that African woman who yesterday was looking for the White Hunter Zyrillus from Cricklewood.

Deal, Pimps, you may address me as Ethel when we are alone. Who is that African woman?

She was a Zulu dancer. One of those spring chick who dance bare breast, you know?

What else, Pimps?

What else, Pimps? What about your submission, Ethel?

I presume I am required to serve you tea. That is the submission you have in mind for me?

That African woman is a dangerous rival for you, Ethel. She did not recognize our Sir Cyrillus as her white hunter. Somebody could inform her, anyway. As for your punishment, it involves ten slaps on your ass. At each slap, you will have to say ‘Thank you, Pimps. I am a stupid boring woman. I promise I’ll never more bother a butler’. Promise to be good and be informed of everything."

Deal, Pimps.

That woman’s name is Precious Booty and at the moment her ass is oversized. Africa spoiled Sir Cyrillus, now he likes that type of ass.

Ethelberta face reddened. She lowered he pants and asked Pimps:

What about my bum, butler Pimps?

I think you can win on Ms Precious in a competition where the prize is Sur Cyrillus-

Implement my punishment, Pimps. I assume position.

After ten slaps, in tears for shame and pain, relieved by Pimps’s kissing, she stopped on the door the departing Pimps.

Pimps, would you give me another ten in advance? I’ll be waiting for fresh news soon.

Tremors of Ethelberta.

Ethelberta was disconcerted. She felt afraid and retained no self-control.

I should pay a visit to the Vicar, she told herself, he knows how to deal with demons. This was because she recognised there was a demon inside her.

For a moment she was tempted to offer Pimps a job in her estate, probably as a gardener. She could wait for him in the tool shed. He would cut a long stemmed rose and mercilessly whip her ass in the dark. She would be his slave. There would be ‘no more, Master, Pimps, I beg you’. No, somebody sooner or later would know and gossip would spread. A scandal would destroy her reputation.

She and Pimps would sail to America. There was democracy in America where a butler was free to spank a lady.

No, she should fight temptation. She would give everything to the poor and go to the Amazon jungle Catholic Mission.

Finally, the pragmatism of the English Lady overcame her doubts. The solution hit her like a hot drop of olive oil bouncing out of the frying pan. She would marry Cyrillus at once. Cyrillus would take Pimps with him as their butler. Pimps would be rewarded with double pay and demoniac secret meet-ups with her. Pimps would happily follow his friend Cyrillus.

Doubts and tremors still tormented her. Should she encourage Pimps to spank her derriere with a carpet beater? For sure she needed a set of provocative underwear, black garments, black stockings and black pants to contrast against the red of her whipped bum. Stories of the butlers regularly betraying their landlady and having an affair with the maids were