Mr. Pufferton and the Last Magazine: Part Eight

To say that Mephistopheles Pufferton was in grave danger would be dreadfully unfair to Mr. Pufferton himself. Though he doubtless thought, upon falling into a deep, drug-induced slumber, that he would awake to find himself facing the business end of a cannon or else a murderous Gibraltr Fontaine, there were events that transpired without the poor Bruce's knowledge. These events placed him in a far better predicament than he otherwise would have found himself in, and, thusly, the grave danger in which he could have been was demoted to nothing more than a vague unease.

      Argyle St. James, when he had retched his way out of Gibraltr Fontaine's cabin, had done so as a preemptive getaway. His ne'er-do-well nature had alerted him to a potential danger, and he thought it best to leave the premises straight away, lest he and Mr. Pufferton both got caught in the same trap. Once outside, he fell to listening at the keyhole and cursing himself as he heard Mr. Pufferton fall prey to Gibraltr Fontain's machinations.

      Resolved to rescue his incapacitated master, Argyle set out on a rampage of sorts, happening upon crew members of the Cheesy Pete and defeating them in pugilistic combat. The details of Argyle's escapades, while invigorating, are not appropriate to be printed in respectable publications and are better left unsaid. Suffice to say that Argyle St. James yet again proved his worth as a manservant and had each and every member of Gibraltr Fontaine's crew safely tied up in the hold while their employer was happily gloating over his slumbering opponent.

      Mr. Pufferton awoke. He half-expected his wrists to be tied, his eyes to be covered, and his last words caught in his throat. As it was, he found himself lying face-down in a pool of his own spittle almost precisely where he had fallen from his chair. He grunted, rolled himself onto his back, and stared out the open cabin door at a most incredible scene.

      Argyle St. James, the very Techo who had fallen ill at supper, was holding Gibraltr Fontaine by the scruff of his neck in one hand and aiming a none-too-legal sleep ray at the unfortunate Blumaroo's head with the other hand.

      "Argyle..." Mr. Pufferton managed to say around the thick woolen blanket that had become his tongue. "A... sleep ray?"

      "Oh, you're awake, Puffs! Yeah, funny, isn't it? A legitimate business enterprise like Pizzaroo keeping a highly illegal weapon like this on board their delivery ships! Imagine that."

      "How'd... you..."

      "How'd I manage to overpower an entire ship fool of goons and get Mr. Gibraltr Fontaine himself in my clutches? You're forgetting one very important thing, Puffs."

      "And what... would that be?"

      "I'm Argyle St. James!"

      Mr. Pufferton struggled to his feet and stepped out onto the deck. The moon had risen high in the sky, and a squall was evidently on its way; the wind whipped the sails, and the waves slapped up against the railings of the ship. "Very imaginative, Argyle. I assume you used your prodigious boxing skills to send Mr. Fontaine's friends into various states of unconsciousness?"

      Gibraltr Fontaine struggled against Argyle's firm grip. "So... Puffs and Argyle are Cliff and Jamie, huh? Never shoulda trusted you, ya hot air balloon."

      Mr. Pufferton strode up to the captured Blumaroo and patted him jovially on the shoulder. "Ah, Mr. Fontaine, your verbal jousting will get you nowhere anymore. The ship is under our control now."

      "Control?" Gibraltr Fontaine spit at Mr. Pufferton's feet. "There's only two of you. Nobody's at the wheel, and you've got us heading straight into a storm. Ocean's the only thing in control right now."

      Gibraltr Fontaine was right. His last sentence was drowned out by a sudden blast of wind and rain, sweeping across the deck. Argyle closed his eyes involuntarily against the onslaught, and the slippery Blumaroo took advantage of the situation to elbow him in the ribs. He made it halfway across the deck before Mr. Pufferton barreled into him and sent him sprawling into the railing. Argyle, recovered from his sudden blow, caught up and redoubled his efforts to contain the head of Pizzaroo.

      "Sorry 'bout that, Puffs... Fella caught me off-guard." Argyle shouted to be heard above the storm.

      "Mr. Fontaine!" Mr. Pufferton's voice rose to a deep, booming bellow, a foghorn in the growing storm. "Your game is up. I will turn the ship around myself and return us to port, where the Defenders of Neopia will bring justice down upon your head! Now you can tell us what we want to know and things will go smoothly... or you can tell the Defenders after they use their own methods of persuasion on you."

      "You think I'm gonna tell you anything, you bloated windbag?" Gibraltr Fontaine grinned through cracked teeth and spit blood into the wind. It fell onto the rainslick deck and was washed overboard in an instant. "The Devil take your ego."

      "It's checkmate, Fontaine!" Mr. Pufferton howled above the wind. "You've got nowhere to run to!"

      Though the wind took all sound, it was evident that Gibraltr Fontaine was laughing. His ruined mouth opened wide and his body shook with trembles that came from within. "Oh, it's too much! You think I'm the king? Gibraltr Fontaine ain't no pawn, but, buddy, you're looking at nothing but a knight. And this knight's just finished his tour."

      It took Mr. Pufferton a second too long to realize what the amateurish reference meant, but it was a second he couldn't afford. He watched helplessly as Gibraltr Fontaine struggled ferociously against Argyle's embrace and threw the both of them up against the railing of the heaving ship. The sleep ray was knocked free, and Argyle and Gibraltr Fontaine both leapt for it at the same time.

      The Blumaroo came up victorious, holding the sleep ray at arm's length, pointed directly at Mr. Pufferton. He backed up against the railing. "So long, Puffs and Argyle. Nice knowing ya."

      "Fontaine, no!" Mr. Pufferton threw himself forward, but it was too late.

      Gibraltr Fontaine whipped the sleep ray up to his head and pressed the trigger button. Four thousand winks blasted through the Blumaroo's brain, and he fell into a nigh-impenetrable slumber. He teetered once, heaved backwards with the rocking of the ship, and toppled into the black waves below.

      The news of Gibraltr Fontaine's death stole headlines for a week after the Cheesy Pete was returned safely to Pier 18. The news of Pizzaroo's involvement in a counterfeit attack pea smuggling ring stole headlines for a month. Inspector Landsdale, the Defender in charge of the investigation of the Cheesy Pete, noticed immediately that the Bruce and Techo who brought the ship into port were the same two who had brought forth the pea earlier in the week. It did not take an intellectual equal of Mr. Pufferton to connect the dots.

      Arrests were made, hearings held, and the Pizzaroo monopoly on pizza disintegrated almost overnight. The manufacturers of the attack peas were no closer to being found, but the Defenders were hopeful that, given enough time and enough arrests, they would get just the right clue.

      This, at least, were the facts according to the copy of the Neopian Times being read aloud by Argyle in the sitting room of the Pufferton estate.

      "'The Defenders would like to extend their gratitude to two anonymous tipsters who provided the initial clue that opened up the case.' Hey, that's us, Puffs! Maybe they'll give us a reward or something."

      Lady Cynthia Colchester, who had decided that two weeks was ample time to recover from the shock of the burglary that had occurred the last time she had visited, tittered girlishly. "Oh, Argyle! You delightful scamp! You mean to say that you and dear Mr. Pufferton have become anonymous tipsters behind my back?"

      "Nonsense, Lady Colchester. Absolute rubbish. You know how Argyle's head is filled with these dreams of fame and fortune. Quite absurd." He delicately picked a finger sandwich off a nearby tray and devoured it before continuing. "The most intrigue we've come across lately is whether or not the eldest Marshbanks son is running around with little Arabella Farnsworth!"

      Lady Colchester gasped. "Oh, he never! Why, just the other, I was talking to Lord Marshbanks himself, and do you know what I told him? I told him that his sons were the politest, most genteel Usuls I ever laid eyes on. Oh! How dreadful it would be for him to hear."

      Argyle, who took no delight in gossip, continued turning pages in the newspaper. "Heh, look at this, Puffs! New pizza place opened up in the city. Name of... Pepper's. Like the vegetable, I s'pose."

      "Oh, pizza, Mr. Pufferton! I simply adore pizza! Do you think we could order some? All these little stores opening up is so wonderful to see! I do think we should support these Pepper's people."

      "Lady Colchester, as much as I would enjoy supporting these poor pizza makers, I'm afraid I simply haven't the stomach for pizza these days. I find it... disagreeable."

      Lady Colchester giggled, Mr. Pufferton chortled, and Argyle smirked at his boss. The mystery of Pizzaroo, of attack peas, of magazines and burglaries and huge publishing houses had been solved, but it would only be for two of them to know. Lady Colchester, though doubtless she would be impressed by the story, was far too demure for tales of such derring-do, and she would likely have nightmares for a month. No, it would be a secret for two; the world would never know of the intellectual triumphs of Mephistopheles R. Pufferton.

      A week later, the first ad for Pufferton, Solver of Crimes Obscure, appeared in the Neopian Times.

The End