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Leaving the Mountains

Waddling over mountains is very slow and laborious, rarely recommended by professional mountaineers, but, because we gorged ourselves stupid on Captain Farquhar's wonderful selection of breads, cakes, chocolate ├ęclairs and fruit buns, we are as fat as overstuffed sows, and have no choice. However, usefully, our enhanced girth allows more room for sustenance and, when crossing a vast mountain range, sustenance is vital. Sustaining ourselves with Vintage Auchroisk, Interleven, Lochnagar, and Strathisla Special Reserve, we discover that climbing up mountains is difficult, with a huge belly, but rolling down the other side is very easy and, although we are corpulently behind schedule, we have a lot of fun. Nonetheless, worryingly, after several days, we realise that, at the rate we are travelling, it is going to take us weeks to cross the mountains, and our stocks of Vintage Linkwood, Lochside, Springbank and Ardbeg Private Reserve are alarmingly low.

Fortunately, we hear a whistle blowing and immediately recognise Bakulebe's train whistle. This is very exciting and we flounder through the snow towards the whistle until we see Bakulebe's train approaching. Our old friend, Bakulebe, is one of our top agents and because, as the senior engineer with the Special Train Service, he knows that a slow or stationary train is vulnerable to attack, he always maintains maximum speed. This means that we have to jump aboard the speeding train which, as we are fantastically obese, is too difficult, so we lie on the tracks and, and as the train passes over us, we grab at the underside of a carriage and, hanging under the train like bloated bats, we thunder through the beautiful mountains, as fast as we possibly can.

Professor Humperdink's Diary