Dr. Dume ~ The Doctor is In

I have promised Sergeant Shelsky a photograph of myself. He tried to take one when he visited but his camera melted. I have also broken several in the attempt but I will continue to try. Fortunately he doesn't want one of Senga. Last time anyone tried that, the orbit of Pluto was deflected and an entire entourage of photographers crashed into Jupiter. The whole Shoemaker-Levy Photographic Company was wiped out in that incident.

Photography is not made any easier by the removal of street lighting from the village. I knew it couldn't last. The giant swamp snails were everywhere and the lights attracted other things too. There was a plague of bagpipes for a few nights. Their noisy mating rituals and territorial calls kept everyone awake. It was good news for Hamish McSkirt and his kilt business because he soon built up a whole pile of bagpipe-skins in a range of tartans, but for everyone else it was terrible. I'm not bothered by bagpipes out at Dume Towers because the trapweed gets them. My problem, lately, has been a population explosion of giant carnivorous haggis. Very nasty things, but very tasty if you get them before they get you. They are currently inflating the bank account of Angus McFlatulent, the local haggis-trapper. Every cloud does indeed have a silver lining.

Except the ones over Dume Swamp. They have dark grey linings.

Nobody has yet found a way to profit from the giant swamp snails. I am in talks with some French restaurants so I may yet make something out of all this myself. Enough, perhaps, to buy a camera with a specially reinforced lens.

Or, as a cheaper option, a mask.