Dearest Dark Brethren of the Wigged Elk
Thank you for attending last month’s meeting, which we agreed will now occur on the third Monday of every month, excluding public holidays.
We were able to raise, through thievery and theft, one hundred pounds.
I am happy to announce that these funds will be going towards the catering bill for our Christmas luncheon, which will be held in the public bar of the wonderfully atmospheric ‘Murdering Monks’ pub on the 23rd of next month. Ensure you have your Secret Santa gift ready.
This is all excellent news, but unfortunately, it is the only positive I can write about in our bi-monthly Dark Brethren Newsletter. Raising the subsequent topics brings me great pain, but as Grand Poohbah, I must.
As you all know, we have dedicated our lives and every living moment to the development and deployment of Evil! This should be of no surprise to anyone since, at each meeting, we give our heartfelt promise to do no good. Including our group pinkie swearing ceremony and sipping from the chalice of Ultimate Evil!
But, dear brethren, I am shocked and horrified to feel the need to clarify to everyone that…
We do NO good to other people, NOT to ourselves!
I thought this was perfectly obvious and would not need to be explicitly explained. Still, apparently, from our continual failure to fulfil even our fundamental doctrines, I am woefully mistaken!
Your tiny and insignificant personal choices are sending our dearest Alma Mata careening down the side of a cliff. So please, a little self-control is called for!
Our last mission to bring down the beloved ruler of our city, Harold the Happy, was a complete waste of time! Maybe in some other life, in some parallel reality, we are now revelling in the disposal of this cheerful despot. But in this life, in this reality, we are now all facing the fallout from a cascade of stupidity.
Even though we had meticulously planned his downfall for months, including hiring the Assassin Clowns to carry out the balloon animal attack at his Lordship’s birthday celebrations, it rapidly became a total disaster, thanks to you, Brother Hoodwink!
Because you, and you alone, Brother Hoodwink, decided you could not stand by and watch unregistered members spend our funds, you decided without consultation to go out and buy the balloons for the clowns, ensuring everyone you could get the ‘best bang for our buck’.
Cheap, Brother Hoodwink only sometimes guarantees fit for purpose. The fact that the clowns suffered near asphyxia from hyperventilating in their attempts to blow up the balloons played an immeasurable part in their capture.
Another point also needs to be made publicly regarding the balloons. Long ones, Brother Hoodwink, not round! You cannot make a balloon animal out of a round balloon! You silly little man!
This sadly does not conclude my letter of recrimination.
Sister Whisperer, the next time we have operatives in the field, think before you speak. Please do not walk into a crowd bellowing out in your most annoying nasally toned timbre, “Does anyone know where the assassin clowns are ‘cause I’ve got the acid cream pies they ordered!”
Sister Whisperer, the clowns are unhappy because of your lack of professionalism! They sent me a humorous card with confetti and glitter in it, in which they stated that once they serve their life sentences and get out, your days will be numbered.
Again, brethren, I wish these were the only two negatives I had to raise, but to our shame, it is not! Our organisation seems to be the main sponsor of a breeding programme for imbecilic decisions, so at least we're succeeding at something!
As you all know, preparing one’s self for an ‘Evil Doing’ event takes time and thought, as well as the correct attire. The clothing we, the Brethren of the Wigged Elk, have chosen to wear during our E.D. events is incredibly complex and intricate.
As you ALL KNOW, it takes at least 20 minutes to put on the undergarments, robes, elk horns and masks, making sure at each step that none of the attire fails in any way, shape or form, as this could catastrophically reveal us in ways we do not wish to be exposed.
And even though, at the time, I thought it was a very bonding thought of Sister Toxious to hand out her homemade chocolate slice to everyone whilst we were donning our attire, I was wrong.
Sister Toxious, you put a lot of contemplation into the petit fours, but your decision to swap the milk chocolate out for Laxet chocolate was particularly unkind. I, for one, as the Grand Master Poohbah, felt entirely targeted since my regalia is the most complex to remove, requiring at least a second pair of hands and half an hour in which to do so safely.
I must state publicly, Sister Toxious; I have never before, in my entire life, ever looked at a bathroom sink in such a way as I did the night the entire brethren were struck down with a reaction to your choice of chocolate. Nor have I ever removed my regalia’s undergarments so quickly and with such force.
I was shocked at how the junior brethren were blatantly disregarding my station and standing within our collective by not making way for me to use the bathroom facilities in my time of need.
All I can say about this, Sister Toxious is; the fact your decision kept us from meeting up with the Assassin Clowns so we could play our part in the downfall of that personally despised overlord they call Harrod ‘Mr Happiness Himself’ burns deeply in my soul. So, dear sister, keep an eye out for your punishment; it’s coming!
The last issue, thank all that is Evil in this world, that I need to raise is to address the person who stole our golden chalice from its sacred resting place within the very heart of our meeting circle. Who in their right mind would think I wouldn’t see it in the front window of Brown Brothers Pawn Shop on Righteous Road? Considering their shop is opposite my own drapery establishment!
As a punishment for this completely disrespectful action, there will be no takeaway meal to finish off our next meeting. This is purely because I had to raid the kitty to repurchase the chalice! I also had to endure some very disrespectful statements from the Senior Brown Brother, who enquired as to how our secret society was going and if we had achieved anything yet.
Mr Brown also suggested that our cup was a cheap knockoff and only worth a pound. I assured him its value was immeasurable.
Let me highlight to you that its reacquisition was an important activity to engage in, merely to ensure an air of grandiosity is continued and guaranteed during our next meeting. Unfortunately, standing around an empty crumpled beer can, which was put on the chalice’s altar in place of the real majestic cup, just isn’t awe-inspiring in any way, shape or form.
Do Evil unto others, NOT to ourselves!
We will be speaking about this very topic at our next meeting. Please remember to bring a plate of food to share. …no chocolate and nothing from you, Sister Toxious.
Grand Poohbah of the Brethren of the Wigged Elk