bout de papier, Vol. 18, No. 1 (2001) — Spring 2001 // Printemps 2001, pp. 41–43
As Liebnitz disappeared under the credenza, Chief MacBannock asked, “What are you doing, Ludwig?” The ace logician replied indistinctly, “Looking for my jaw. After it dropped, it rolled off here somewhere.” “Don’t be so melodramatic,” said the Chief. “It’s not the first time a former employee has come back to ask the Centre’s help in a delicate matter.” “No, but this is the first time it’s Rialto Sleazewagon,” replied Liebnitz, glaring at the man in the wing-back chair with a pencil-thin moustache. “I find it equally humiliating to be here,” interjected the current provincial premier and former assistant managing editor of the Centre’s publication, Aide Mémoire. “But by the way, how do you grow a pencil-thin moustache on a wing-back chair? Rather fetching, actually.”
The three got down to business. A month before, Sleazewagon had announced a major conference of world business leaders and anti-globalization protesters, a “Gold-Green Summit” to set a new international economic agenda. To ensure the “necessary level of security,” a three-metre high fence of concrete and chicken wire had been erected around the centre of the provincial capital, York, and the perimeter manned with Papa Jack Paridy’s (really bad) rock band and recruits from the local street theatre scene.
The reason for the fence was clear the day the Summit opened, when a large delegation of global governmental leaders, led by the Prime Minister, showed up in cavalcade. They were turned back with the message that they: (a) had not been invited; (b) were irrelevant to the agenda; (c) represented organizations historically prepared to use violent force to gain their ends; and (d) were doubtless about to create an anarchistic disturbance, thus justifying the barriers. A charge by the assembled limousines was turned back by volley after volley of rhubarb meringue pies, ear-splitting heavy metal music and a phalanx of mimes doing the “invisible wall” thing. Visibly panicked, the leaders dispersed. The PM later issued a press release saying, “Just because they have all that economic power and public support – who do these people think they are?”
An uncoordinated fifth column of Rosedale liberals rose in rebellion within the enclave, but was quickly besieged in national TV headquarters and surrendered when their cappuccino ran out. Just when everything seemed to be going Sleazewagon’s way, however, his fortunes reversed. Visiting a hospital outside the perimeter to announce his new “historic” two-tier health system (21st century care for the rich, 14th century for the rest), he knew nothing of the coup that overthrew him until he was barred at the fence. Cut off from his base, his only hope was to gain the help of the Centre.
“And just why should we help this man?” demanded Liebnitz. “Anyone who doesn’t think that he has his own agenda for the Summit is a few hookahs short of a pipedream.” The Chief nodded gravely, struggled to light his pipe and managed to ignite the tip of his walrus moustache instead. Attila McGee rushed in with a seltzer bottle and doused the flames before they could spread. MacBannock continued unperturbed, “Actually, Liebnitz, it’s that agenda which poses the problem. It seems our former colleague here had all the delegates locked up in a hockey rink, where he fed them only maple syrup, American beer and whale blubber, while showing them nothing but old national campaign ads. Many of his captives demanded sensory deprivation instead, but he refused to comply until they agreed to turn over all their profits and votes to his organization in perpetuity.”
The premier chimed in: “But that was simply greed for unbridled power, wealth and the ability to grind the lower orders into the dust — you know, the kind of thing that has made the name Sleazewagon what it is today.” “A synonym for slime?” asked Attila tentatively. The premier continued. ’The man who took over from me has far more evil ideas. He wants to create a new city-state, changing York’s name to “Toronto the Goof’ (although that may be a typo). It will be run entirely by MBAs, based on business school case studies.” As they all shuddered, the ace logician cried out, “Who is this man?” Replied the Premier, “We aren’t sure, but folks call him Slade McKeester.” ’To his face?” exclaimed the Chief
“How can he be stopped?” asked Liebnitz. According to the Premier, the only data on McKeester had been gained by an opposition leader, who had penetrated York disguised as a pizza delivery boy. “Great cover!” said MacBannock. “Cover, nothing,” snorted Liebnitz. “Given the man’s polling numbers, he was probably in training. What did he find out?” Sleazewagon said, “We can’t take direct action because of the hostages and McKeester has a fanatical hold on his followers. The only one who will stand up to him is his mother, Sadie, an old prairie populist — but she has been sent off incommunicado on a contrived international mission, just so she can’t talk him out of this madness.” The chief added,, “She is getting on a plane tonight to fly from one major city to another, Liebnitz. If we only know which two they were, and what name she was using, we could pick her up, bring her back and close this affair. I sent Jimmy the Turk out to find her. The last anyone heard, he was still looking for his luggage at Heathrow.”
“Aha!” exclaimed the ace logician, “that explains the curious message I just received from the Oxford police — in Morse code. A strolling artichoke salesman just handed in this puzzle, which should provide us with the cities and alias we need.” The logician placed a piece of paper on the Chief’s desk and the three men examined it carefully.
Below are 20 clues and 25 anagrams. The clues relate to phrases that include the word “take” or “takes.” The anagrams are scrambled versions of the words in each phrase that come after “take” or “takes.” The number at the end of each anagram is the number of words involved. The clues and anagrams are not, of course, in the same order.
“I know this puzzle type,” continued Liebnitz. “There are more anagrams than clues. Once you work out which 20 anagrams relate to the clues, cross them out of the list. The five that are left have to be unscrambled without any clues — there may or may not be any ’taking’ involved. Then they are fitted, in the order they appear in
CLUES:
(1) You can’t dance alone
(2) Show no mercy
(3) Denver song title
(4) Spend time unconventionally
(5) Make the place safe again after hours
(6) What to do after you’ve got it together
(7) Simon request in New Orleans
(8) Be insulted
(9) 1949 Kelly/Sinatra sports movie or 1890s song
(10) Go to Harlem underground
(11) Examine with care
(12) Don’t treat this lightly
(13) Make yourself comfortable
(14) Abba song title
(15) Trust me on this one
(16) Traditional alien request
(17) Only the similar are familiar with each other
(18) Monkees railroad order
(19) Make up your mind on this offer
(20) Stay healthy, you hear?
ANAGRAMS:
(a) SIR LOUIS YET — 2
(b) SAUCY ROLE OFFER – 3
(c) HAWK TALON LEWIS DIED – 6
(d) LOOSE CLOAK — 3
(e) HENCE ORLANDO — 2
(f) IDAHO ROTTEN — 4
(g) TACOMA PLANTAIN — 2
(h) STRAND YOUR ECHO MEMO — 4
(i) GATHER MEDIA STORM — 5
(j) EACH MAN ONCE — 4
(k) IDEAL GERUND – 2
(l) TATTOO GOWN – 3
(m) WOKE ONTO NEON — 4
(n) REIN SPONSOR – 2
(o) ROME ROUTE DELAY — 4
(p) IRATE VIOLET — 4
(q) THAT MEANT AWAKEN – 3
(r) MUTE OMEGA LATHE BOLT – 6
(s) ORNATELY LISP — 2
(t) NEAR HIATT – 3
(u) HIGH BENT TACK — 3
(v) TRIM WRY FOOD – 4
(w) LIST CLOVE KILLS NEAR THAT RAT — 5
(x) TINKLE BEWARE — 3
(y) FORAY ALOUD TOFFEE — 5
the list, into this message, written in invisible ink on the back of the puzzle:
[ ]: first name [] family name [ ]. “First [ ], then
“The first unscrambled anagram is the code name Mrs. McKeester is using. The second and third are clues to the two parts of that code name. The separate phrase using the fourth and fifth is another song title, mentioning the two cities.” With that, he set to work and soon solved the puzzle. Sadie McKeester was located and brought to Sleazewagon’s capital, where she was last seen beating her son about the head and ears with a copy of Tommy Douglas’s biography. In the ensuing confusion, the Centre’s forces managed to release the captives and return the city to normal (or as normal as that city gets).
Can you duplicate Liebnitz’s feat by giving the name under which Sadie McKeester was travelling and the two cities between which she was flying? Not necessary to solve the puzzle, but can you also solve the 25 anagrams (a to y)? bout de papier will decide the winner by drawing from a box containing all correct entries received by September 15, 2001. The winner will receive a CD of some fine Tuvan throat singing.
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Originally published in bout de papier, Vol. 18, No. 1 (2001) — Spring 2001 // Printemps 2001, pp. 41–43. Read the rest of this issue →
