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posted by [personal profile] azdak at 04:02pm on 27/03/2008 under
For the "Letter" challenge over on [livejournal.com profile] network_command

Warnings: Excessive silliness

Summary: James Thurber is presumably turning in his grave...


As his chamber gradually filled with sunlight, the UNCLE chief agent lifted his eyelids with the sure and certain feeling that things weren't right. He failed in identifying in greater detail whence the un-rightness feeling came, but it was definitely there. Thinking hard, he realised that he didn't remember his name. It began with N, he was sure, and ended with N as well, but the rest was misty and unclear. Dressing hastily, he hurried past the UNCLE HQ entrance, exhibiting in his haste rather less than his usual suavity, and hesitated at Mr Waverly's bureau. He knew it was imperative that he enter, and yet he was faced with an impenetrable barrier. "I must get in," he mused, "and yet I can't think what is barring my way." Luckily, at that very minute the barriers parted, granting him admittance. In an instant he was in Mr Waverly's inner sanctum.

"Aha, my CEA!" said Waverly with evident relief. "Thank heavens! We're facing a severe crisis. Thrush has invented a device that has sucked the 15th letter in the alphabet away. It is a dead letter. It has ceased being! What is even badder is, we can't use any lexemes that have that letter in them! We can't even imagine entities that have that letter in their names!"

"My deity!" exclaimed the nameless man, slapping his temple. "I knew a thing wasn't right when I ceased sleeping! I just had this strange feeling! What shall we undertake, if Thrush has nicked all the unutterable letters in existence?"

"We must use alternative lexemes," said Waverly. "What else can we undertake? In the meantime, I want Mr Whatshisname and Mr Kuryakin t– dear me, this sentence requires an infinitive, let me backtrack. Mr Thingumajig and Mr Kuryakin will attack the Thrush plant where we suspect they are hiding the letter-stealer and reverse the effects."

"Waverly has all the luck," the dark-haired agent grumbled at Illya. "His name lacks unspeakable letters. Like Illya Kuryakin, in fact. Why is it always me that suffers under these ghastly epithetical attacks? Why am I never spared? It isn't fair!"

"Cease griping and leave with me!" instructed Illya, pulling a martyred face behind his friend's back.

The Thrush plant was situated beside a large hill. The hazel-eyed chief agent and his sidekick penetrated its defences with practised ease and after much searching identified the chamber where the letter stealer was hidden.

"What means must we use in deactivating it?" asked the taller man.

Illya struggled with a few particularly essential lexemes, but since they all included an unspeakable letter he at length fell silent in disgust.

"Well?" his chief asked.

"Bang!" said Illya sadly. "These linguistic limits are dreadful!" Then his eyes brightened as an idea struck him. "What we need is Semtex-type stuff, except that Semtex hasn't been invented yet."*

"The big brass said reverse the effects," advised the suave UNCLE agent. "He didn't say make a great big bang with semtex-type stuff."

"But I will anyway!" said Illya, apparently insulted by the implied criticism. "Making a great big bang will reverse EVERYTHING!" Inside his pants** he had a small black plastic thing, which he carefully placed – which he stuck –

"Damn!" he exclaimed. "I find I am sadly lacking in a crucial grammatical item that will enable me t…" he fell silent, defeated by the truncated alphabet.

"Chuck it AT the machine," suggested his partner, understanding instantly where Illya's difficulty lay.

Illya's face lit up. "Better yet, I shall lay it BESIDE the letter stealer!" he cried, acting even as he talked. "Quick, we'd better leave here, else we shall make a bang as well!"

They were just exiting the plant when the semtex-type stuff blew the walls away.

"Oooooooooooooh!" said Napoleon, as a great cloud of letters poured out over the world. "Thank God that's over! I was beginning to wonder how I would ever come to terms with living in a world without love!"





*by which the eagle-eyed will infer that this tale takes place in 1965 at the latest
**American
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