The other week, as an amusing one-off , Tim Matthews wrote a silly short story spoofing some of the more ridiculous exploits of various self-styled big cat researchers over the years. “Cat Researchers Gets Clawed!”
“Norman’s Wisdom!”
“Circus Clown Gets Boot!”
The papers were full of stories about The General’s difficult evening and with little happening in the big wide world, the meeting had made several regional newspapers; Channel X news; the Internet; on every forum dealing with UFOs, Big Cats and The Paranormal; and even The Daily Star.
The General was beside himself and was in a closed meeting with his supporters at a cafe in Lower Minster, two miles away. “What in HELL happened last night?” he screamed. He had been up all night trying to get the custard pies, string and gunk off himself and his friends were not happy either. It wasn’t their mistaken approach that concerned them but feeling sorry for themselves, uncovering the “moles” and “exposing the conspiracy against us.”
Such talk was common in ABC circles. The group did such a bad, non-scientific job that their lists and databases of Big Cat sightings were often conflated and confused with all sorts of phenomena. “We knooow there is a conspiracy at work and I thought I recognised a few people in that crowd of ingrates last night,” moaned The General. “State Agents, Government Assets, Agent Provocateurs probably trained at the Intelligence Corps HQ in Ashford, Kent. They send them on provocateur short courses and their role is to infiltrate the general public and keep us under control. I’m sure that Watts character was there last night. I shall have a look at the footage later. Bastards!”
“Yes but most of them that chucked stuff were kiddies,” said Pam. “They can’t be agents.”
“You want a bet,” shouted The General. “I have something here written by Larry H. Larder and he’s a London-based expert in deep government surveillance and penetration of the UFO community by state assets. One of his reports is on a 14-year-old MI5 agent and I bet that very man was there last night handing out the silly string and custard pies to his agents. They get 'em young, these days and, after all, suicide bombers in Palestine are often teenagers.”
There was no point arguing with The General when he was in this mood. Or any mood, for that matter. Ellie Macpherson, barely able to contain her delight, and who had, this time, been asked to attend the secret meeting, spoke up. With a somewhat distant look on her face, and trying once again not to die of laughter, she said, “Well...I don’t think they understand you, Farley. If they knew what you knew they would understand. The sightings, the evidence, the database, your 20 years in the subject. As you say, some of them might know something and a couple of people I spoke to said there were outsiders in last night’s meeting.”
Brilliant stuff. Ellie was tapping into the General’s paranoia and telling him nothing.
“But the girl is right,” he exclaimed. “She’s local, she knows the score and now we have confirmation that agents were indeed there last night and that they either duped locals or infiltrated their ranks!”
“Indeed,” said Ellie.
The fact that she had said no such thing was neither here nor there. Anyone agreeing with The General would be given promotion; seen as a rising star. Anyone disagreeing was a problem, if not The Problem.
“And you, Pam, should bloody well know better,” The General continued. “You should be supporting me after that vicious and cowardly attack on our people last night. What we need is guts, some revenge. I will get the bastards if it’s the last thing we do! I will expose them all. I will bring this conspiracy to the world’s attention.”
Farley Norman was dripping with hatred and was on the verge of losing it completely. He thought he liked the limelight but after last night was having second thoughts. He didn’t like getting a rough ride especially from people who didn’t understand.
“What do you have in mind, boss?” asked Billy Poison, sounding a bit like a Mafia hit man. “Are we going to launch some dirty tricks of our own?”
“We shall see, Billy; we shall see. When the time comes we shall not be forgotten and we shall have respect and that is spelt A B bloody C!”
The meeting broke up and Ellie got on her mountain bike and rode the couple of miles back home whereupon she checked on her mother - who was fine, especially after watching proceedings on Channel X’s live link - and then went to see her best friend in the world, Frieda Fox.
Frieda was at home making cakes. When she saw Ellie she took off her apron, rushed to hug her and gave her a little kiss too. “I am thrilled to see you darling,” she exclaimed. “I so missed you last night and it was such, such fun. Tell me about the emergency meeting this morning. Let’s go upstairs!”
The children had been awake for a while – Saturday was their lie-in morning – and last night’s excitement had guaranteed they’d slept well. Once Ellie arrived they gathered around and Robin turned from the computer screen to get the latest information.
“You should have heard them this morning,” said Ellie. “That IDIOT has completely lost it and at one point threatened revenge! He seems to think that local children have been employed by MI5 or something to do the government’s dirty work. If Frieda and I hadn’t watched so much X Files together I shouldn’t have guessed where he gets his ideas from!”
“This man is insane,” said Robin. “I’ve been looking into his background more. He used to produce a magazine called Alien Sightings and this was the most extreme – or should I say extremely ridiculous – magazine ever produced on the subject of UFOs. He thinks that he is a 'starchild' because he used to have bad dreams. A nut’s nut by any standards and now he’s switched to Big Cats.”
“Yes,” said Ellie, “And I managed to get him thinking dark conspiracies; not that he needed much help. And get this: the scumbag put his hand on my backside when I was on the way out and told me he thought I was a good looker, a potential future leader, if I stuck with him and met him in the pub later. Dirty old man.”
Frieda looked uncomfortable. Robin looked shocked and the youngsters shifted uncomfortably. “I want to kill him,” she said. “How dare he?!”
“It’s ok,” said Ellie, hugging her friend. “It’s ok. I knew what I was getting into and you guys need me so I am helping. Mind you, my mum was mightily entertained by last night’s efforts. She thinks that Robin is a wonderful young man knowing that he was behind it and said that it was one of the funniest things she had ever seen when The General got 'tarred and feathered.'”
“A snake, when injured, is most vicious,” added Robin, “So you be careful with him. Bloody weirdo, though, chatting up a child. It won’t go well for him when this all comes out and we film you exposing the inner workings of his soon to be defunct group....”
“And we have won the first battle, but not yet the war,” said Florence, sounding heroic.
The children had much plotting and planning to do, albeit without MI5’s resources at their disposal, but already hundreds of people were arriving in the village to find out what was going on. One car-load of visitors included members of the FPS (Fortean Paranormal Society) who believed in synchronricity, ostention and other things that neither they, nor the public, fully understood. They thought that their appearance would “give a much needed Fortean perspective on events in Upper Minster” and their organiser, Danny Milstein, and his wife Janet, took themselves very seriously indeed.
To top it all, in a wheat field nearby, a local farmer was getting the shock of his life as he discovered a massive crop circle formation on his land. It looked like James Macpherson was back but to the casual observer it would seem as if hidden messages might be located within his formation....
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