Adventurers Club ep22 The Pale Flame

of the dangerous club is on the air. Once again, we welcome you to our luxurious lounge where members of this famous club meet periodically to relate tales of valor and mystery in places remote and strange.

Rob your chairs and prepare to hear another unusual story of the world adventurous club. Oh, come on, come on, come on. Gentlemen, gentlemen, gather around this shitty fireplace and make yourselves comfortable. Dr. Harrington has consented to entertain us this evening remarkable experience taken from his checkered career.

Dr. Harrington, you may take the floor. Dr. Gladi, please. Give it to Dr. Telaudip, roaring yum. Let's have a doctor. Yes, we do. My story is not a pleasant one to relate. At the time of my narrative begins, I was spending the autumn months in Little Hamlet located in the central lowlands of Scotland,

a village surrounded by Martian bulb. Lord, thereby a sudden epidemic of swamp fever, I was experimenting with a new type of antitoxin for the mysterious melody when I encountered a phenomenon that appeared far more mysterious and dangerous than the prevailing illness.

On this particular night, I was sitting before the fireplace in my cottage when a nut came at the door. Who's there? Well, stranger, who are you? What can I do for you? Hank, the nut is what the villagers call me, but my real name is...

Oh, how should I remember my real name? It's always Hank, the nut. Hank, the nut. You hear me? Well, I hear you quite distinctly. Good. Then we understand each other. You see, I'm not crazy.

It's the villagers. They're all crazy. Oh, yes, I see. They'll sit down a moment. You interest me, Hank. Your speech needs me to believe that you have seen better days in a better land. I'm just Hank, the nut. To everyone, even myself. How can Hank, the nut be two other people?