Accursed Lungs-Chap…
Allow me, dear friends, to share with you a tragic tale of times long past. It concerns the unfortunate Lord Lawrence Belljar-Chuffley - former tobacco tycoon, media magnate, monocle-wearing philanthropist and esteemed national treasure as decreed by the 1877 British Empire National Treasure Awards Commission. He celebrated his new National Treasure status by sending a bag of liquorice allsorts to every war widow in Her Majesty’s Commonwealth. Bless ‘im. What a lovely chap he was…
Sadly, his Lordship’s good fortune faded when a deranged occultist decided to direct his wrath at Belljar-Chuffley. Blaming the cancer he’d contracted on the aristocrat’s prestige branded cigarillos, Emmett Eisheth kidnapped Lord Lawrence and locked him in a secret subterranean location where he subjected the aristocrat to a horrendous-yet-creative array of pseudo-scientific experiments and arcane magick rituals.
After 7 months of being treated to recondite torture practices, Belljar-Chuffley was nothing more than a pair of lungs, only identifiable by his trademark monocle and oh-so-dapper moustachio. Considering death to be an act of mercy, Her Majesty’s government put the poor Lord out of his misery immediately after Eisheth had been tried and hanged for his heinous crimes. The whereabouts of what is left of Lord Lawrence remain a state secret though it is rumoured that they were traded by Great Britain during World War II and are now in possession of a private collector.
So goes the tragic tale of Lord Lawrence Belljar-Chuffley. Spare a thought for that sad accursed pair of lungs next time you’re smoking a cigarillo or choking on a liquorice allsort…
