The Pirates! In an Adventure with Scientists!

elephants involved. Several unfor­tunate children are born with it every year.'

'Children are born with it? Is that because their mothers have been bitten by an elephant whilst pregnant? Are you saying that if I got pregnant, I shouldn't visit a zoo?'

'No. Really, the condition has nothing to do with elephants.'

'Would the baby only be affected if the mother was bitten in the belly by an elephant? Or would a bite to the leg do it too?'

'I don't think you're really listening . ..' said the Elephant Man with as much patience as he could muster.

'I can tell you're from India, because of the shape of your ears,' added Jennifer trium­phantly. The Elephant Man just sighed and shook his head.

'Tell me, John,' Jennifer went on, swiftly changing tack. 'Do you know why this circus has so many ladies' nights? I mean, they're virtually every night! It's suspicious!'

'No. No, I don't. I ... I don't even know what you're talking about,' said the Elephant Man quickly. The pirate with a scarf thought he saw a flash of fear in the wretch's eyes, but it was hard to tell because his face was such a funny shape.

'Listen. Why don't I sing you a song?' said the Elephant Man, obviously desperate to try to

change the subject. He even got up and did a little ungainly jig as he sang.

I look like some ex-pe-ri-ment! But please believe me I'm a proper gent! I seem like a monster, but whatcha don't know is,

I got a scorching case of neurofibromatosis!'⁹

Jennifer and the pirate with a scarf gave up on getting a straight answer, and went to search for any clues that might be evident at the other exhib­its. But they had no more luck with the Man Who Could Eat A Bicycle, or the Lady Who Had Had Hiccups For Forty Years, or even with the Girl From Chesterfield Who Would Repeatedly Go

19 Or possibly Proteus Syndrome. There is still some debate in medical circles. Contrary to popular belief, Michael Jackson never did purchase the Elephant Man's skeleton from the Royal Hospital. This is a good example of how you shouldn't believe everything that people tell you.

14

Out With Idiots When She Could Do A Great Deal Better For Herself. The pea-soup fog was starting to make their eyes sting, so Jennifer and the pirate ducked inside a tent that was simply marked A Special Exhibit For The Ladies'. It didn't seem very special - it was just an empty and badly lit tent as far as the pirate with a scarf could make out.

'It's very dark in here. I can't even see what we're meant to be looking at,' said. Jennifer, slip­ping her hand through her companion's arm. The pirate with a scarf's heart skipped a beat. He couldn't believe how well it was going. Usually by this point with a girl he'd have said something idiotic, or spilt drink all down his front, or chewed with his mouth open, but he'd managed not to do any of those things so far, and he even seemed to be impressing her with some of his nautical anecdotes.

'It must mean a good deal of responsibility, being the first mate on a pirate boat,' said Jenni­fer, shivering at a sudden breeze that seemed to blow through the tent.

'It's not easy. But I try to look after my crew,'

said the pirate. 'I saved a man's life the other day. He got attacked by a huge jellyfish, and I neutralised the sting by pouring a bucket of wee all over him.'

He instantly wished he had instead told her about the time he fought a monstrous manatee, because it cast him in a slightly more heroic light, and didn't involve big buckets of wee. Jennifer had gone very quiet, and looking up from his shoes - he was terrible at making eye contact with girls he liked - the pirate with a scarf was surprised to see her slumping uncon­scious to the floor. For one frightened moment he thought his conversation might have sent her into a daze, so he was pretty relieved when he felt a chloroform-soaked rag press against his mouth, and blacked out himself.

The pirate with a scarf opened his eyes groggily. His vision seemed to go cloudy, but then he real­ised it was just his breath condensing on the inside of the massive glass tube in which he now

found himself trapped. The tube was attached to some kind of improbable contraption, fashioned of wood and brass and covered in cogs, pipes and hissing gaskets. Looking to his left, he saw that Jennifer was held in an identical predicament. With a sinking feeling, he realised that yet again a date with a pretty girl had gone horribly wrong. He could just make out that they were in some kind of big square room, with what looked like gigantic stained-glass windows for walls. He gave a peevish sigh - he certainly wasn't enjoying this adventure as much as, say, the Pirates' Adventure On The Island Of Rum And Amazons.

'So, young scarf-wearing lady! You and your pretty friend are awake!'

The room was so dingy, and so cluttered with menacing-looking bric-a-brac, that the pirate hadn't noticed a figure dressed all in black robes[5] busying about in the corner. It was the

iniquitous Bishop of Oxford himself! The pirate! with a scarf could tell it was the Bishop because he was wearing a bishop's hat, just like the chess pieces that he had seen the Pirate Captain play with on occasion. The pirate with a scarf preferred Ludo or Snakes and Ladders himself.

'What's all this about, you beast?' asked Jennifer from inside her big glass tube. The Bishop fixed her with a beady stare.

'How old would you take me for?' he asked, as if by way of explanation. Jennifer had never been particularly good at estimating this sort of thing, but she hazarded a guess anyhow.

'Mid to late forties?'

'Hah! I'm actually fifty-one years old.'

The Bishop gazed at the pair of them expect­antly. Jennifer and the pirate with a scarf just looked blankly back at him. He seemed a bit annoyed that he had to explain things further.

'I keep myself so fresh-looking by using this devilish machine to distil the very life-essence from young ladies such as you!' he added impatiently.

'So you're responsible for all these grisly murders! I had my bets on it being a member of the Royal Family. Or maybe gypsies,' said Jenni­fer, wide-eyed and fuming. 'You villain!'

'I must say, Bishop,' said the pirate with a scarf - remembering to keep up his lady voice - 'the sack and the drugs. It's not the sort of behaviour I'd expect from a man of the cloth.'

The diabolical Bishop looked almost sheepish.

'I realise that my methods leave a lot to be desired,' he replied with a rather forlorn sigh, 'but you have to appreciate the climate I'm working in. Anyone will tell you how difficult it is to meet a nice girl in a big city like this. So you can understand that in my case, where I need to meet about a dozen nice girls a week in order to synthesise my ghastly concoction ... well, it's virtually impossible.'

'I can see why you're not a girl's first choice,' said Jennifer with a sneer. 'If a lady is looking for anything to be planted on her mouth at the end of an evening, it's a kiss, not a dirty old cloth soaked in chloroform. The least I'd expect of a fellow who intends to drain the youthful

life-force out of me would be flowers and conversation.'

'Yes, it's a bit much. Do you really need the sinister circus and the swirling fog and the kidnapping? Have you tried a nice coffee shop? I hear that they're great places to pick up us women,' said the pirate helpfully.

'Of course I have!' replied the Bishop with an air of despair. 'But it just never works out. I meet a girl, I laugh a booming maniacal laugh at their anecdotes, just like I've read you're meant to, and I make sure to pay them a compliment -'you've got a lovely hairline, I won't need to shave your temples when I attach you to my nightmarish