The Thackery T. Lambshead Cabinet of Curiosities

starlight. On the base of the decanter, curving gracefully about the punt (and most easily read when the bottle is empty), a cursive admonishment is etched: Use judiciously. The yeast of life’s melancholy rises in proportion to the sedimentation of posthumous renown. (William T. Vandemark)

Dinner Bell of the Mary Celeste, The—The bell, which was present when the Mary Celeste was towed into Genoa, was found to be absent when the ship was inspected in Gibraltar. The couple who presented the bell for auction in 1893 claimed to have snuck aboard the derelict ship as children, and to have taken the artifact as a memento. They asserted that ringing the bell caused a curious sensation in the back of the head, as well as a desire to go swimming, and as such was unsuitable as a dinner bell due to the dangers of swimming immediately after a meal. Experimentation at a boy’s school next to a lake in the summer provided inconclusive data about the bell’s efficacy in this regard, though it has been theorized by some that there must be a meal present to cause the bell’s unusual effect. (Jennifer Harwood-Smith)

Dracula’s Testicles—Unusual in size (they have a diameter of five inches apiece), these were a donation by Jonathan Van Helsing Jr. It is believed that the gigantic size of the testicles is due to their use while they were still attached to the body. According to Dr. Lambshead’s hypothesis—enounced in a note glued to the jar filled with clear garlic juice in which the exhibits are stored—the testicles were used as reservoirs for the extra blood that the vampire had to suck before travelling, so as to be able to survive longer without drinking blood. According to the donor, the famous vampire-hunter’s son, the testicles were a gift by Count Dracula’s twenty- second wife to his father, in exchange for being allowed to collect and enjoy the vampire’s life insurance (a fabulous sum, or so the rumors of the period said) after Dr. Van Helsing Sr. performed the staking of the four-hundred-year- old vampire. (Horia Ursu)

Ear Eye—This instrument functions in the same way as a periscope but is in the shape of a C, and therefore requires many more mirrors. It is apparently designed for looking into one’s own ear. A transparent casing displays the mirrors inside. Inexplicably, one of them is tinted so dark as to be minimally reflective. According to Lambshead’s journal, an employee of the caretakers of the doctor’s house was testing the Ear Eye when he dropped it (fortunately, it doesn’t appear to have been damaged) and ran away, yelling inarticulately and covering the ear he had just been looking into. He seemed to want no one to see into it. He has not reported back. No one has yet been found willing to further investigate the Ear Eye. (Graham Lowther)

Fort Chaffee Polyhedral Deck, The—This item consists of fifty-four uncoated paper playing cards in a cardboard sleeve printed with the slogan know your enemy. The cards resemble spotter decks used to train World War II pilots, but in place of aircraft silhouettes, each card is illustrated with a different stellated polyhedron and its Schlafli symbol. This is the only known copy of the Fort Chaffee deck and it is regrettably incomplete: the ace of spades was replaced with an ordinary playing card with a similar backing. It was discovered by Dr. Lambshead at a poker tourney hosted by an acquaintance, a professor of high-energy physics tenured at Los Alamos. According to his personal correspondence, Lambshead procured the Fort Chaffee deck with “haste and discretion,” which may explain both his lack of inquiry into this apparent geometric incursion and the sudden end of his career as a cardsharp. (Nickolas Brienza)

A card carrier of the type used with the Fort Chaffee deck.

Harness & Leash for Fly—Harness fashioned from newspaper. Coiled, grey-colored leash of undetermined material. Possibly a relic from the Cult of the Fly, an obscure movement originating in the workingmen’s clubs of nineteenth-century Lancashire. What little we know about the cult comes from a letter by a Miss Phyllis Grimshaw of Oswaldtwistle to a Mrs. Evelyn Hunt of Crewe (currently on display in the MOSI). She states: “Father has taken up with those ridiculous fly men and is growing a beard, to his knees, he says, so he can pluck a hair from it. Mrs. Cackett, at the shop, says some neversweats have been plucking the tail hairs from passing horses.” The precise nature of the ritual involving the flies is unknown, although it is unlikely the incumbent of this harness lived a full life: a fragment of wing remains attached to the newspaper. (Claire Massey)

Human Skeleton, Irregular—Adult male, 20th c. European, identity unknown. Acquired from the estate of noted dog breeder and occult hobbyist Mr. Comfort of Derbyshire, whose widow sold his collection and prized Schnauzers after his fatal hunting accident in 1952, the skeleton may be an example of an unclassified bone disorder or an elaborate anatomical hoax; Dr. Lambshead’s records are inconclusive. Curious features include pronounced phalangeal keratin structures, twelve coccygeal vertebrae, rotated scapula and absent clavicle, convex frontal bone, and an elongated mandible with overlarge canines. A small hole in the occipital bone along with traces of silver and indentations in the cervical vertebrae suggest death by foul play rather than disease; scorching indicates posthumous exposure to fire. Mr. Comfort’s journals contain no mention of the specimen and disclose no provenance. Mrs. Comfort’s auction notes are brief: “Skeleton, male, possible medical interest. Nobody important. ?3 starting bid.” (Kali Wallace)

Ichor Whorl—Small, coarse, black object suspended in a yet-to-be-analyzed solution. Object is variable in size—averaging one cubic inch—and vortical in shape. Date of manufacture unknown. Lambshead journal fragment 729 notes the item’s place of origin as “a polluted shoreline of a former Soviet republic.” Dr. Lambshead sent the item to Tillinghast Laboratories, which provided the following report: “Keep organic matter one meter from contents. Empirical tests reveal living tissue placed within one meter is remotely hollowed (by undetermined means) to the limit of solidity without liquefying. Spectroscopic results inconclusive. Presence of organic matter within one-meter orbit is accompanied by slight phase change in object, from solid to non-Newtonian fluid, and extension of one spiral arm to three centimeters covered in half-centimeter protrusions. Authorization for further tests required.” Donated to Dr. Lambshead by Maximilian Crabbe, 1989. (Ben Woodward)

Rikki Ducornet’s still-life mug shots, drawn from her encounters with disgruntled artifacts

Jug, Disgruntled, et al.—A series of cabinet artifacts, generally from antiquity, depicting human facial features that appear to differ in expression following the cabinet fire, based on records of their expressions prior to the fire. While the catalyst for the change may be apparent, the agency is not. (Art by Rikki Ducornet)

Kepler the Clock—Franz Kepler’s rigorous attention to his many appointments made him susceptible to Chronometrophilia. Initially, the disease manifested in twitches of his right hand, as if he were reaching for a pocket watch. Had he sought treatment then, he may have been cured. But Kepler had no time for illness. Gradually, his features began to resemble a clock face. Within a month, his moustache would rotate to indicate the time. When his legs became mahogany, he adjusted by scheduling meetings in his office, ensuring none would fall on the hour, whereupon he would utter a loud “bong.” One Monday, Kepler’s colleagues arrived at work to find a grandfather clock behind his desk. Dr. Lambshead purchased the clock some years later from a private collector. Kepler is, we assume, still alive. He keeps excellent time and should continue to do so if he is regularly wound. (Grant Stone)

The map for creating an Assassin’s Twist (plot twist included).

Kris (“The Assassin’s Twist”)—A kris whose every turn and twist on the blade is supposed to inflict a certain wound or an affliction upon the victim. However, unlike in all other krises, the twists in this one have been forged in a way that any attack by the tip or part of the blade will surely kill the target, yet when the large kris is pushed into one’s body up to the hilt, it will leave the person alive (owing to a secret twist devised on the blade below the hilt). This geometric weapon increases the assassin’s chance of killing the target (for even a single scratch would be enough) yet introduces a final plot twist to the weapon by leaving the target alive once it is pushed up to its hilt to the body. (Incognitum)

Leary’s Pineal Body—This epiphysis cerebri was pickled in vivo by the late American psychologist most famous for his mantra “Turn on, tune in, drop out.” Dr. Leary opened gates heretofore unknown beyond the speculations of H. P. Lovecraft, and this gland is noteworthy for its ability to have survived multiple encounters with beings from beyond—and otherwise. Research is pending on a way to safely experiment on it; the Stanford Asylum has a special wing for those who have attempted, to date. (Kaolin Imago Fire)

Mellified Alien—The enlarged head and oversized eyes of this diminutive, mummified humanoid creature would indicate that it is of the Grey type of extraterrestrial. That it has been preserved in honey