Inviting us to their rare breed sanctuary, George and Sabra tell us that dragons need protecting, as knights and saints slay them on sight. We thank them for their invitation, but explain that we are daggishly behind schedule, and lost. Juan shares out flasks of Vintage Caol lla, Oban, Pulteney, Benrinnes and Laphroaig Private Reserve and, to healthy doses of The Macallan, we offer toast after toast to George, Sabra and the health and happiness of dragons, dragonesses, and friends of dragons, everywhere.
Sabra gives us a message from aunt Humperdink. Aunt insists on writing in the Humperdink code. I decipher the message to read that we should head for the
Highlands, re-stock on fine vintage malt, and find a party. To celebrate, Juan breaks open a barrel of his Special Reserve then, saluting farewell to George, Sabra and the dragon; looking forward to Highland women who, Juan claims, are the most beautiful women in the world, and Highland single malt, the best malt on Earth, and Highland hangovers, the most challenging hangovers on the planet, we blow up our bagpipes and, playing The Birks of Aberfeldy and The Muckhart Pool Mermaid as loudly as we can, we march forwards and backwards and from side to side then, collapsing, we crawl toward the Highlands, as fast as we possibly can.
Just as Juan says that, if we are quick, we will catch opening time at the Cheeky Monkey, in Aberfeldy, we are surprised to bump into Ragan and Gandi, two of our top Dogon agents, and realise that, rather than being in the Scottish Highlands, we are actually in the Bandiagara Highlands. This is irritating.
Professor Humperdink’s Diary