Biggles Goes to Italy

Members writing in the style and using the characters of W.E.J. (Fan Fiction)

Re: Biggles Goes to Italy

Postby Indian Civil Service » 09 Oct 2016, 14:21

:lol:
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Re: Biggles Goes to Italy

Postby Kismet » 09 Oct 2016, 19:47

A nice, exciting update to come home to! Lovely, thanks, FB.
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Re: Biggles Goes to Italy

Postby kylie_koyote » 10 Oct 2016, 00:11

Kismet wrote:A nice, exciting update to come home to! Lovely, thanks, FB.


I heartily concur. A lovely update!
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Re: Biggles Goes to Italy

Postby tiffinata » 10 Oct 2016, 06:13

Finally caught up with it.

Wonderful stuff.
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Re: Biggles Goes to Italy

Postby Tracer » 10 Oct 2016, 08:54

Exciting times! :nailbiting:
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Re: Biggles Goes to Italy

Postby RAAF Spitfire Girl » 11 Oct 2016, 03:52

tiffinata wrote:Finally caught up with it.

Wonderful stuff.


Same here :yay: :yay:
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Re: Biggles Goes to Italy

Postby Fairblue » 10 Jan 2017, 20:15

CHAPTER SEVEN (Cont'd)

There was silence for a few moments whilst Biggles and Bertie digested this startling piece of information. It was Biggles who spoke first.

“What on earth would an Italian mobster be doing on the Windspiration? Although I agree it does seem to be that way, we must tread carefully here, and not jump to conclusions,” he suggested cautiously. “This and what Marcel said about the owner of the plane would suggest that Algy has got himself mixed up somehow with both the Corsican and Sardinian Mafioso. Have you told di Luca of your suspicions?”

Ginger shook his head vehemently. “No. Only that Algy has been found alive. I wanted a word with you myself first.”

“Good. Then we’ll keep this amongst ourselves for the time being. I’m sure Algy will be able to tell us what really happened when we do see him. In the meantime I must let the Air Commodore know he’s alive. I’ll see if di Luca will let me use his phone. You two go back to the hotel and pack. I’ll meet you back there. Did Marcel mention where we should go, Ginger?”

Ginger nodded. “Yes. He said he’d make arrangements for our aircraft at Solenzara but we'll have to stay in a hotel somewhere.”

****

Ninety minutes later, they touched down at on Corsican soil on the French Air Force base at Solenzara. Marcel was there to greet them and the formalities were speedily dealt with.

It is good news, no?” Marcel asked as they left the hangar where the aircraft had been placed and made their way to the Mess. Biggles had wanted to go straight to the hospital but Marcel had pointed out that in all likelihood Algy would still be in a drugged sleep.

“We go after we have had the talk, eh? Ginger has told you that I think I have found the plane?”

“Yes, and we have some news for you too that might be relevant.” Over a quick coffee Biggles told Marcel what Ginger had discovered and showed him the two bullets.

“That is very interesting, mon ami,” Marcel declared. “You have told the Italian authorities?”

Biggles shook his head. “Not yet. I wanted to see what Algy has to say first, but to be frank, I couldn't care less. The involvement of the Mafia is in your jurisdiction, and di Luca's. Raymond still wants to know about the use of British Registration markings, but that's not really urgent and now we’re not investigating his murder, I want to get Algy home as soon as he’s fit to travel.”

“Bon,” Marcel approved. “But Pelletier is the slippery eel. Gaspard, the Chief of Police here, he might be on the, how you say, the take. I am on my own here, mon ami.” Marcel sucked on his teeth, “We need the hard evidence to make things stick…but if we find it, Pelletier, he say that someone else fly his plane.” He looked at Biggles. “We give it the try, yes?”

”What do you want to do?” asked Biggles cautiously.

“Tonight, you and I will do the digging of the skulls,” Marcel announced.

Here, I say! That's a bit grisly, what?” Bertie suddenly exclaimed, polishing his monocle vigorously.

Biggles shot him an exasperated glance. “Don't be an ass, Bertie. I’m sure that's not what Marcel really meant. It isn't, Is it?” he added, turning to Marcel. “What exactly is it you have in mind?”

“What I say. The mischief, secret mischief. Ah, I have it wrong.” Marcel clicked his fingers together triumphantly. “Skuldiggery, that is it.”

“Skulduggery,” Biggles, Bertie and Ginger chorused together, somewhat relieved.

“Oui,” Marcel agreed easily. “After I find Algy, I go to the airfields to have a look for the plane which is on the island. “I ‘ave a look,” he went on, “and on one I can see the ‘angar, the doors, they are open and the plane I am after, she is in it. So tonight, you and I, we creep in and we ‘ave a look at her guns.”

“Pelletier wouldn't be such a fool as to leave them on,” Biggles warned.

“No, mon ami, but traces will be left. Maybe the mechanics, they are lazy. It ‘appens.”

“Not on my watch,” Biggles retorted grimly and made a mental note not to go up in any plane he or one of the others had not looked over thoroughly first.

Coffee finished, Biggles stood up, followed by the others. “Right, we’ve delayed long enough. Let’s go."

****

Dr Dupont was not on duty when they arrived at the hospital but Marcel spoke to the doctor who was. He explained that Algy was still asleep. “It is better so,” he told them. “He has the stitches and he must be still.”

He would allow only one person to go through to the bedside so Biggles followed him along the corridor, leaving Ginger, Bertie and Marcel sitting on hard chairs in the corridor.

Algy was lying on his back and Biggles could clearly see the scars on his face and his broken arm, which lay on top of the covers in its cast. Biggles stood, looking down at the sleeping figure in the bed, a mixture of emotions flooding his mind, relief and anger uppermost.

As Biggles turned to go, Algy opened his eyes. He stared groggily for a second and then licked his lips. Immediately a nurse, who Biggles had not seen before, rushed forward and, helping him up slightly, gave him a small drink of water.

“So Marcel got through to you then,” he murmured sleepily, when he was settled again.

“Yes, he did," Biggles replied, coming a little closer, and gripping the hand that Algy had held up. “You just behave yourself and do as you're told. We’ll come again tomorrow.”

“Have you got a pen?” was Algy's next question.

“Yes,” Biggles said, removing his from his breast pocket, “ but I'm not going to take down your last Will and Testament if that's what you're after. The doctor here assures me you're going to live.”

“Idiot,” Algy grinned. “I just want you to sign my plaster so I know I haven't been dreaming.”

Ginger and Bertie, from their seats in the corridor, heard Biggles’ bark of laughter with relief.
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Re: Biggles Goes to Italy

Postby kylie_koyote » 10 Jan 2017, 20:31

Ha! Lovely Algy humor. Splendid to have an update.
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Re: Biggles Goes to Italy

Postby Kismet » 10 Jan 2017, 20:35

Splendid.

I love
“Tonight, you and I will do the digging of the skulls,” Marcel announced.


and Algy asking for his plaster to be signed.


Hope you stay inspired with this.
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Re: Biggles Goes to Italy

Postby Tracer » 11 Jan 2017, 11:30

Such a good update - I shall never feel quite the same about skulduggery again - and some really good dialogue. Thank you!
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Re: Biggles Goes to Italy

Postby Indian Civil Service » 11 Jan 2017, 15:57

Fantastic! Straight from WEJ's pen...or typewriter! Thanks for the update!
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Re: Biggles Goes to Italy

Postby tiffinata » 13 Jan 2017, 13:30

Skulduggery.... LOL!
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Re: Biggles Goes to Italy

Postby Fairblue » 15 Jan 2017, 00:55

CHAPTER EIGHT

Later, that night, a car crept along a dirt track at the side of an aerodrome just to the south-west of Porto Vecchio. A new moon cast a faint glow on the scene. Marcel , at the wheel, guided the car forwards slowly. Beside him was Biggles. In the back seat sat Bertie and Ginger.

As they crawled along, Biggles looked around at his surroundings. To his right was a ditch beyond which was an olive grove. To his left was the aerodrome, surrounded by a ten foot high chain link fence. Marcel had described the aerodrome as basic, but adequate for the few people who needed the use of such a place. At one end was a huge low building which Biggles thought would be housing the office and such leisure facilities which were offered. A few hundred yards ahead two hangars loomed large. A pole with a tatty windsock stood off towards one side.

They passed the entrance to the aerodrome and it wasn't until they came level with the back of the hangars, that Marcel pulled up briefly. The large structures were sited some three hundred yards from the fence. “That one.” He pointed and then drove on for a few hundred yards to where the track widened a little. With a little difficulty he turned the car around so it faced the way it came, went back down the track until they were once more adjacent to the hangars, and stopped the car, switching off the ignition.

“Right.” Biggles turned round in his seat to address Bertie and Ginger. “You know what you have to do. Keep an eye out. We’ll be as quick as we can.”

Silently, Marcel and Biggles, carrying a pair of wire cutters, crossed the dirt track and threw themselves down at the base of the fence. Bertie and Ginger, standing by the car, could hear the snip-snip as Biggles cut through the wire.

A few short minutes later, they could see two figures, crouched low, running across the intervening ground to the back of the hangar.

*****

As Biggles and Marcel reached the back they straightened up and flattened themselves against it. Without a sound they made their way along the back. Biggles, on reaching the corner, peered round to look down the side. Seeing nothing, he beckoned to Marcel and they both ran towards the front. Once again, Biggles peered round. He snapped his head back suddenly and retreated towards the back, a surprised Marcel following him.

Once at the back Biggles turned to Marcel. “There’s someone there,” he hissed. “At least two people. There are two cars, one of them a police car, the other a huge black sedan. The doors must be slightly open because there's a narrow shaft of light showing.”

Marcel muttered something under his breath which Biggles didn't quite catch. “We must go and listen,” Marcel whispered firmly, drawing his automatic.

Biggles nodded and drawing his own weapon, followed Marcel back towards the front of the hangar.

As they stealthily approached the hangar doors the murmur of voices reached them. They were speaking, naturally enough, in French.

Both Marcel and Biggles listened avidly.

“……..come here tonight?” said a very well-modulated voice.

“I asked you to come here,” said a thicker, rougher voice “because we have a problem.”

“I pay you to get rid of any problems, Gaspard,” said the first voice, a hint of steel behind his words.

“This is different,” said Gaspard, a little desperately . “The man in the boat -he has turned up.”

“Which man in the boat? They were bound to turn up sooner or later - corpses usually do. At least the ones without concrete boots do.”

“No, no, you do not understand.” Gaspard obviously very agitated said hurriedly. “The man on the boat - the sailor, the one who fished Donatelli out of the water. He was in the morning papers. He is alive and in a hospital in Corsica.”

Biggles’ ears pricked up at this piece of news, but Gaspard was talking again, so he filed it away for future consideration and carried on listening.

“Yes. And what is more…..he is an English policeman.”

At this, the first voice swore long and volubly in French. A third voice chimed in. Biggles started. The words were English, spoken with a strong American accent.

“Can't you guys speak English? ” it drawled. “Hey, Pelletier, what's the cop saying?”

Biggles heard Marcel's sudden intake of breath and nudged him in the ribs.

In almost flawless English, but with a marked accent, Pelletier translated the news Gaspard had brought. It was evident the American was not best pleased.

“A Limey Cop? Boy, are my bosses going to be hopping mad when they find out. We don't need the Brits poking their noses in. He's gotten to be taken care of. We don't wanna take any chances.”

“Gaspard does not think the man has had time to say much,” Pelletier translated as Gaspard spoke. “His sources say he has been under sedation today, but I agree. Gaspard,” he switched easily back to French, “you will see that the Englishman does not talk anymore. Make a good clean job of it or I will arrange for you to visit my personal boot maker.”

tbc
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Re: Biggles Goes to Italy

Postby Kismet » 15 Jan 2017, 01:02

I thought Algy was safe and now you have put him in worse danger than ever! Oh my, fb, this is not a nice, relaxing update to read at bedtime.
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Re: Biggles Goes to Italy

Postby kylie_koyote » 15 Jan 2017, 03:31

Great update! Looking forward to the next one.
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Re: Biggles Goes to Italy

Postby OzBiggles1963 » 15 Jan 2017, 04:03

kylie_koyote wrote:Great update! Looking forward to the next one.


Wow, this is fantastic! I missed this thread late last year & having read this through in one sitting I thought I was reading a canonical event straight from the pages of a lost WEJ story. Superb stuff FB, & I'm on the edge of my seat [actually i fell off the precipice at one stage, lol] :shock:

Too many great things to list, but this story has everything:

1. Sailing.
2. Algy on holidays...
3. Cranky Biggles.
4. Planes shooting bullets.
5. Algy getting riddled with bullets. :?

6. Sinking yachts.
7. Really cranky Biggles.
8. Algy getting waterlogged...
9. Mafiosa everywhere.
10. Algy has concussion...
11. Marcel.
12. Biggles is fighting mad now!
13. Did I mention Algy was damaged?
14. Midnight 'skulldiggery'
15. American bad guy.
16. Corrupt police.
17. Algy with a price on his head...
18. Watch out bad guys!!

More, bravo, more please! :claphappy:
They've been working together for so long that each seems to know by a sort of telepathy when another is in trouble. One never seems to get them together. Get one & the others come after him. To give the devil his due they make a formidable team.
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Re: Biggles Goes to Italy

Postby Wanderer » 15 Jan 2017, 08:00

OzBiggles1963 wrote:Wow, this is fantastic! ...... I thought I was reading a canonical event straight from the pages of a lost WEJ story. Superb stuff FB, & I'm on the edge of my seat [actually i fell off the precipice at one stage, lol] :shock:
:claphappy:

Couldn't put it better myself! Its interesting how this style of writing and publication mirrors that which WEJ himself used when he was at his best in the 1930s - every chapter has to move the story along, but end in a good cliff-hanger to retain the reader's enthusiasm. Though I do think WEJ wrote the complete story before individual chapters were published in Modern Boy or elsewhere... More, pretty please, and soon :-)
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Re: Biggles Goes to Italy

Postby Fairblue » 15 Jan 2017, 11:36

Thank you very much for your lovely words, OzB and Wanderer. The boys have been whispering urgently in my ear and are telling me what happened next.
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Re: Biggles Goes to Italy

Postby OzBiggles1963 » 15 Jan 2017, 11:39

Fairblue wrote:Thank you very much for your lovely words, OzB and Wanderer. The boys have been whispering urgently in my ear and are telling me what happened next.


Aha! The game is afoot Algernon... ;)
They've been working together for so long that each seems to know by a sort of telepathy when another is in trouble. One never seems to get them together. Get one & the others come after him. To give the devil his due they make a formidable team.
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Re: Biggles Goes to Italy

Postby Kismet » 15 Jan 2017, 14:18

OzBiggles1963 wrote:
kylie_koyote wrote:Great update! Looking forward to the next one.


Wow, this is fantastic! I missed this thread late last year & having read this through in one sitting I thought I was reading a canonical event straight from the pages of a lost WEJ story. Superb stuff FB, & I'm on the edge of my seat [actually i fell off the precipice at one stage, lol] :shock:

Too many great things to list, but this story has everything:

1. Sailing.
2. Algy on holidays...
3. Cranky Biggles.
4. Planes shooting bullets.
5. Algy getting riddled with bullets. :?

6. Sinking yachts.
7. Really cranky Biggles.
8. Algy getting waterlogged...
9. Mafiosa everywhere.
10. Algy has concussion...
11. Marcel.
12. Biggles is fighting mad now!
13. Did I mention Algy was damaged?
14. Midnight 'skulldiggery'
15. American bad guy.
16. Corrupt police.
17. Algy with a price on his head...
18. Watch out bad guys!!

More, bravo, more please! :claphappy:


Love your summary of the contents, OzB.
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Re: Biggles Goes to Italy

Postby Indian Civil Service » 15 Jan 2017, 16:11

Wot they said...but please can Bertie duke someone soon? He's not seen much action yet and with Erich lurking...?????
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Re: Biggles Goes to Italy

Postby Fairblue » 15 Jan 2017, 16:36

Erich hasn't reared his head because the French and Italian Mafioso is too much for him to handle. :twisted: As for Bertie...:love:.....well, I'm not too sure about putting him in danger... :?
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Re: Biggles Goes to Italy

Postby Indian Civil Service » 15 Jan 2017, 17:16

Maybe a little faceoff between Erich and Bertie...both suave, smooth and monocled...
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Re: Biggles Goes to Italy

Postby Fairblue » 15 Jan 2017, 17:38

Indian Civil Service wrote:Maybe a little faceoff between Erich and Bertie...both suave, smooth and monocled...

Not this time, ICS, but if you want a Bertie / Erich face off read my fanfic 'Where's Bertie'. It was my very first, so you will have to excuse any lapses.
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Re: Biggles Goes to Italy

Postby Indian Civil Service » 15 Jan 2017, 17:45

My favorite Bertie moments in the canon are when he's ice cold angry and fighting silently. Well, no harm in hoping is there? Who knows what the lads might reveal to you...Great writing, this one and the earlier one you mentioned that I read way back already.
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Re: Biggles Goes to Italy

Postby Fairblue » 15 Jan 2017, 17:49

Indian Civil Service wrote:My favorite Bertie moments in the canon are when he's ice cold angry and fighting silently. ...

Some of my favourite Bertie moments too ...when he's got his dander up. 8-)
The Decision to Survive - A good pilot is both born and made. The best would look upon his work as a combination of adventure and a serious mission. – Major General Sir Frederick Sykes
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Re: Biggles Goes to Italy

Postby Fairblue » 15 Jan 2017, 19:55

CHAPTER EIGHT cont’d

Meanwhile, Bertie and Ginger, slightly bored, sat in the car and waited. There orders were simple. They were to keep a lookout and be ready for action if required, including a quick getaway.

Every so often, one of them would get out and walk a little way either up or down the track, listen and watch for a short time and return to the car.

“How long did Biggles say it would be before old Algy would be fit to travel?” Bertie asked at one point.

“The doctor told him at least two weeks, but you know Algy. He’ll be kicking up a fuss long before then, so I wouldn't go by that.” Ginger looked at his watch and groaned. “I hate doing this,” he grumbled, “I’d rather be in the thick of it.”

“So would I, laddie, so would I, but orders are jolly old orders.” He opened the car door. “I’ll just take another little dekko.”

He walked down the track, towards the aerodrome entrance. There was sufficient moon for him to see where he was putting his feet on the ruts. A rabbit, feeding on the rough grass at the side of the track, froze at his approach. It was a young rabbit and Bertie looked at it with mild interest.

“Not much meat on you, young ‘un, is there?” He whispered softly, “You'll be no good for the pot, no, by jove.” The next second, like the rabbit, he froze. Two beams of light were heading towards him and the sound of a car motor reached his ears. A split second later, his brain catching up with events, he flung himself into the ditch. The rabbit, startled out of its trance, bounced away rapidly, it's little white puff ball of a tail marking its passage in the dark.

Bertie, thankful the ditch was dry, listened avidly for sounds of the approaching car. His concern was for Ginger and although Ginger would undoubtedly see the car coming and take cover, there was no way of knowing how many occupants were in it. It wouldn't help either himself or Ginger if he were to be seen, however, so he kept his head low and waited for the car to pass.

It took only a few seconds for him to realise that the car was moving in a direction away from him. As he hadn't heard the car pass, this puzzled him, and raising his head slowly, he parted the grass at the top of the ditch and peered out.

The car headlights showed clearly that the vehicle was now on the other side of the chain link fence. It had obviously turned into the aerodrome entrance and although Bertie couldn't make out the type of vehicle he thought it was some type of limousine and it appeared to be heading straight for the hangars.

With no danger now of being spotted by the occupants Bertie scrambled out of the ditch, brushed himself down and set back at a run towards Ginger.

This, however was his undoing. He tripped and fell headlong. His monocle flew out of his eye and he landed, full length, winded by a large stone, face down in the ruts. For a few moments he was unable to do anything other than get his breath back. Finally, with an effort, for his stomach muscles hurt, he scrambled around until he found his eyeglass and then got up to make his way back to Ginger.

A few yards further on, he was met by an agitated Ginger.

”What on earth have you been doing?” He hissed at Bertie before Bertie could say anything.

“Talking to a jolly little bunny, old boy,” Bertie replied seriously, polishing his monocle.

”Talking to a….”Ginger began incredulously, “Never mind,” he added hurriedly, “Did you see that car?”

“Of course I did, old boy,” Bertie answered, “Couldn't miss it. That's why I'm in the bally disgusting state I'm in now. I had to leap into the ditch to hide. Frightened the poor bunny too. Hopped off at a rate of knots.”

“What a wise bunny,” Ginger returned sarcastically. “Look, we need to do something. I watched the car as long as I could and I haven't seen or heard it since it got near the hangars. I don't like the sound of that. If they catch Biggles and Marcel they could be in real trouble.”

Bertie opened his mouth to say something, but he never got the words out. Suddenly, from the direction of the hangars, carried across the still night air, came the unmistakable sound of machine gun fire.

tbc
The Decision to Survive - A good pilot is both born and made. The best would look upon his work as a combination of adventure and a serious mission. – Major General Sir Frederick Sykes
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Re: Biggles Goes to Italy

Postby Kismet » 15 Jan 2017, 20:11

“Talking to a jolly little bunny, old boy,” Bertie replied, seriously, polishing his monocle.


This line almost, - almost - makes up for the serious situations you have put Biggles, and in the last chapter, Algy, into. Almost. I'd be laughing myself sick at it if it was not for worry over them
'Major Bigglesworth' said Von Stalhein coldly, 'there are times when I seriously wonder if you were created by the devil just to annoy me.'
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Re: Biggles Goes to Italy

Postby kylie_koyote » 15 Jan 2017, 23:31

I love the bunny bit too!
"For goodness sake stop that Yankee drawl, or you'll have us all doing it before you've finished."
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"That's better."
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Re: Biggles Goes to Italy

Postby OzBiggles1963 » 16 Jan 2017, 02:07

kylie_koyote wrote:I love the bunny bit too!


Bahahaha! Lord Bertie Lissie...policeman, gentleman & 'rabbit whisperer' extraordinaire. :lol:
They've been working together for so long that each seems to know by a sort of telepathy when another is in trouble. One never seems to get them together. Get one & the others come after him. To give the devil his due they make a formidable team.
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