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       #Post#: 25--------------------------------------------------
       SKIP Revamped: The Case of the Alliterative Arsonist
       By: InterNutter Date: May 21, 2014, 3:24 am
       ---------------------------------------------------------
       SKIP Revamped: The Case of the Alliterative Arsonist
       The nice thing about London, the really nice thing about it, was
       that money got you into places and gained you things one would
       otherwise not believe.
       The other nice thing was that, should one look hard enough, one
       could get others to pay you to do anything.
       For example, a Kosher Butcher's a mere hop skip and a jump away
       from Arthur D'Raigun's original and masochistic choice of
       residence actually paid Arthur to 'dispose' of the blood they
       could not, by faith, be allowed to touch. He got paid in pounds
       to hire some clean gentlemen for pennies to pump the blood into
       kegs and deliver them to a much better address.
       An address conveniently close to a theatre he now owned. A
       theatre who now had a permanent place for Mesi to act -or dance-
       or sing as prima diva. A theatre where the managers assumptions
       about audience tastes were repeatedly and vastly proven wrong.
       M'me Mesi Bolidé was making her mark. In more ways than one.
       Every day, Arthur would read the higher class of newspapers and
       neatly circle anything that looked... interesting. And Mesi
       would go through the -ah- tawdrier publications, and do
       likewise.
       They had both learned that their most interesting and profitable
       cases were the ones that matched up in both.
       Mesi was the one who noticed about the fires. Arnham's in
       Abbotsford Avenue. A butcher's in Babel Place Borough. A
       Crafthouse in Cabal Cottages, Camberwell. The list went on all
       the way to the F's. The fires all began mysteriously when nobody
       should have been present. All the establishments were well
       guarded and there was no one beneficiary from the insurance.
       Nobody saw anyone suspicious.
       And the real advantage for their supplementary income was that
       the arsonist worked at night. Which meant that Arthur could join
       her on her investigations without raising any eyebrows.
       It wasn't normally done for a gentleman to stroll the streets
       under the shade of a parasol. And all attempts to conceal him
       thusly as a lady were... laughable.
       Mesi checked her maps and found what she believed to be the
       arsonist's next target.
       Gainsborough Gardens, Golders Green.
       The miscreant would not be able to stay away from such a place.
       Their next trouble was, of course, figuring out the criminals'
       actual target.
       [AN: My problem with this, of course, is that I wouldn't know
       the layout of London from a length of lacrimosial licks. I'm
       trapped in Australia and it would be SO much easier on me if I
       set it in an unnamed pseudolondon, BUT, ModMad owns it and she
       says London, so... meeeeeehhhh. All alliterative alphabetical
       targets are appreciated.]
       #Post#: 104--------------------------------------------------
       Re: SKIP Revamped: The Case of the Alliterative Arsonist
       By: InterNutter Date: November 1, 2014, 4:24 pm
       ---------------------------------------------------------
       OK, so ModMad gave us the last names of these peeps and I had to
       change things so I'm reposting everything I've got:
       =======8<=======
       SKIP Revamped: The Case of the Alliterative Arsonist
       InterNutter
       The nice thing about London, the really nice thing about it, was
       that money got you into places and gained you things one would
       otherwise not believe.
       The other nice thing was that, should one look hard enough, one
       could get others to pay you to do anything.
       For example, a Kosher Butcher's a mere hop skip and a jump away
       from Arthur Steed's original and masochistic choice of residence
       actually paid Arthur to 'dispose' of the blood they could not,
       by faith, be allowed to touch. He got paid in pounds to hire
       some clean gentlemen for pennies to pump the blood into kegs and
       deliver them to a much better address.
       An address conveniently close to a theatre he now owned. A
       theatre who now had a permanent place for Mesi to act -or dance-
       or sing as prima diva. A theatre where the managers assumptions
       about audience tastes were repeatedly and vastly proven wrong.
       M'me Mesi Jailoh was making her mark. In more ways than one.
       Every day, Arthur would read the higher class of newspapers and
       neatly circle anything that looked... interesting. And Mesi
       would go through the -ah- tawdrier publications, and do
       likewise.
       They had both learned that their most interesting and profitable
       cases were the ones that matched up in both.
       Mesi was the one who noticed about the fires. Arnham's in
       Abbotsford Avenue. A butcher's in Babel Place Borough. A
       Crafthouse in Cabal Cottages, Camberwell. The list went on all
       the way to the F's. The fires all began mysteriously when nobody
       should have been present. All the establishments were well
       guarded and there was no one beneficiary from the insurance.
       Nobody saw anyone suspicious.
       And the real advantage for their supplementary income was that
       the arsonist worked at night. Which meant that Arthur could join
       her on her investigations without raising any eyebrows.
       It wasn't normally done for a gentleman to stroll the streets
       under the shade of a parasol. And all attempts to conceal him
       thusly as a lady were... laughable.
       Mesi checked her maps and found what she believed to be the
       arsonist's next target.
       Gainsborough Gardens, Golders Green.
       The miscreant would not be able to stay away from such a place.
       Their next trouble was, of course, figuring out the criminals'
       actual target.
       And since it was still daytime as they went together on their
       exploratory excursion, Arthur was dressed as a woman in full
       mourning, by Mesi's side. Mesi wore staid black clothing in
       solidarity, silently taking note of all the G-named streets and
       businesses.
       Arthur spent a majority of the time grumbling both under his
       breath and under his parasol.
       "Oh hush, dear, you look fabulous as a girl," Mesi murmured as
       she took more notes. "Just let me know if you feel like you're
       getting the vapours, please."
       =======8<=======
       PLEASE give me some alliterative London place names!
       PLEEEEEAAAAAASSSSE!
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