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"This may be bollocks, but it's lovely bollocks."
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Stefan and Gustaf were home recovering
from their recent encounter with the
mystic and her dreaded Kaligraphic
Stefan offered Gustaf a drink. After
assembling the various contents for one
his famously elaborate cocktails, he
his back on his friend, reached
drawer and picked out something he had
just acquired. As he turned around,
stared at the shiny instrument Stefan was
It was about the size of a small Maglite
torch, from one end of which a long
flexible stalk dangled expectantly.
Before Gustaf could make another
comment, Stefan reached into another
and produced what appeared to be a
beetle, which he proceeded to fit unto
end of the flexible drive.
"It's my drinks beetler" explained Stefan
triumphantly. "Want to see how it works?"
Without waiting for a reply Stefan
the beetle into the cocktail glass and
switched it on. Immediately on contact, its
legs and feelers sprang into mechanical
life, thrashing the bright liquid into a
satisfying foam as they struggled and
furiously against the sides of the glass.
"That was fun". "Yep, and it's easy to
- you just lower it into soapy water, and
switch it on again for a few seconds."
"What else is in the box?" "Well it comes
with the beetle you just saw, along with a
fish, a small bird, a centipede and a
Drinks Beetlers are available in any
Other attachments are under
drinks beetler (v1)
The illustration is just a scan of a scribble from a page of one of my notebooks [xenzag, Aug 23 2006, last modified Jun 04 2018]
||[B-B] just had a look at your screaming
beetle bran - a most excellent idea,
||Apologies..... this is (I think) the final image I needed to transfer from my Mac Perrycombover account to Picasa.
||Gustav woke with a start. Had he heard something in his room? A skittering noise, like hard legs moving quickly across paper? Stefan's guest room doubled as the library, and books lay in loose stacks on every flat surface. Gustav lay very still ... there! A dark shape stood silhouetted atop a stack of book. The Drink Beetler. That mystic had promised revenge as she hurtled away among the luggage on the top of that shabby bus. Gustaf lunged from the bed as he felt the beetle make contact with his skin. He struggled and beat furiously at his locked door, even as the beetle began thrashing the bright liquid into a satisfying foam.
||That would be the Franz and Gregor version...
||Transferred illustration to tumblr.
||I missed this the last time around. [+]
||"A vodka martini - beetled, not fingered!"