I am here Clever Clive, but what is going on between you and Betts???
Are you and she going into business together?? What kind of monkey business is this??

Now now, my buffiest of Muffykins, you know that you are the only sparkling ruby that catches my eyes... As you well know, Lady Betts and I have shared a checkered past of investment scams and time-share ripoffs... She might prove to be a highly valued ally in the near feature... Let's go somewhere private... somewhere very quiet... I await the tickle of your swirling veils upon my face and the delight of your shimmering ruby-con... Have you the key?

Yes, lets go some where private, I have anticipated this meeting for so long..the tracing of tats with feathers, the long long night with you watching me swirl my silks as I dance the dane of flames for you and only you....Key? Yes, it's in a very safe place!

Guard it well, Muffy, for the tide may swell with the flutter of your silken wings across my epidermal layer... Then take my hand and let us make our way, post haste... Let us take refuge under the Dneiper Bridge where my luxury coach awaits us... There we will be safe from the sage and his crew... There we can discuss our next move for the treasure... Shall the gilded key fit the emerald lock of Micanopy? This we must see...

With feather in hand, I'll take a stand and trace every last one of your henna tats until we discover the answer to the question of which we seek... the map to the treasure lies upon your very warm smooth skin... AND did you know that I have great skill in the art of cartography?

No Clive I didnot know of your skill as a cartographer... I fear there are my talents you have that I know nothing of..Except your skill as a lover, which is widly reknown.And your dealing in the black arts.I am putting myself in peril if I go with you, but you have wooed me with your charms and those devilish eyes have been beckoning me to come hither, so go with you I must, but can I really trust you?.....

Trust me, you can, sweet Muffy! I am your most loyal of ninja assasins... AND only once did I hang out with Lena Horne and share a few drinks... Look deep into my blood-shot eyes and discover the true meaning of Christmas... It's the gift and not the giving... Entangle we shall, like two heated octopi in a lavalamp... for tonight we celebrate our new alliance and soon-to-be-riches... Shhhh did you hear that creaking sound? Is it...

Ahhh It is only the sound of the ungreased millers wheel being turned by a riderless stallion... Time for a...

A Soliloquy...

Alas, here I be... Standing beside my luxury coach (the one with a wet bar and two wide screen tv's), alone, under the highly ornate bridge crossing the Dneiper. Left behind for a wise old cave-dwelling sage by a belly-dancing woman scorned. Who knows why things turn out the way they do?... Things just do their own thing when turned out to do the things that things do. AND sometimes things do things that things prefer to do to their own thing... BUT my thing, has been lost in a velvet fog of deceit and treachery.

False alliances and multiple sultry reassurances of potentially mind-blowing under the table 'raison de feete' that never materialize have clouded my reasoning and left me with a bitter taste for peanut butter spread AND for calamari. Never again shall I extend the olive branch of Palermo to an innocent looking female bystander wearing a cute cowgirl hat and a veil... Never again will my heart cry these salty tears of tequila that will never again be swoozled by the heavenly swizzle-stick of my dreams... The dream is gone... AND so is the key... The key that remains in the dainty hands of my star-crossed lover and one time ninja mistress... or is it masteress?

Long have I journeyed through this tangled world of espionage and international spy intrigue. Ever since my rummy father skipped out on bail with the local drugstore floozy, Gretyl Grabbo, I have heard rumours of a fabled lost treasure buried somewhere under a Patagonian glacier in Argentina... For years, I pawed over ancient maps and ocean current charts from the Ming dynasty... Searching for clues until the midnight oil would seep all over my jammies... AND seep, it did!... AND I wear the scars on the left cheek of my bum to prove it!

When I think of the countless hours I've spent drinking Moldavian wine from the worn slippers of gypsy princesses... AND the endless days spent toiling over my life-sized Lego models of the treasure tomb... AND all the henna tats that my greedy feather hath traced... Why it all seems quite meaningless without my preciously innocent Muffy puffikins around. There is no treasure to be had without my ruby-encrusted harem girl covering my flanks.

These things doth vex me to no end. I have no other choice but to hang up my trusty pith helmet and pack up my loin cloth in a vacuum sealed bag with a couple of moth balls (Geeez don't those moths make a lot of noise when they're under the surgeons knife)... Now I shall go seek a hermit's refuge in my secret bunker of love with my hair hanging low and with my once wagging tail held betwixt my legs... YET I SHALL RETURN with an even more dastardly plan chocked full of lust, lies, and lingering deception... AND Muffy, you shall finally be mine!

As God is my witness, I shall never be defeated again... I shall rise above the smoldering ashes of my abrupt abandonment and avenge the name of the one-humped humpback camel... The Furry Four-Legged Biped Desert Sheik of Making Merry... The Poison Fire Spitting Dromedary Nightmare of the Ganges... AND that camel's name is CLIVE aka Clever Clive... So mote it be!!!!!!!

Don't hold back Clive, tell us what you really feel!

Yes, Lady Betts B, the weight on my shoulders is much lighter now that I have shaved my chest and spoken my mind. Today I shall reflect on yesterday while looking ahead to a much brighter tomorrow...

Clive is now leaving the building... AND he won't be back until late late this evening when his longtime friend and most faithful gun moll, Winking Wendy Delaney aka Winks McGill aka yadda yadda yadda, leaves his secret bunker of love and returns to her li'l ol' adobe on the prairie to worship her li'l Angelytlztec, the chihuahuan goddess of golden marmosets...

Clive has left the build....

but he is gone but not forgotten. The migraine he left Lady Betts with lingers on . But parting is such sorrow !Return soon my evil commander and chief!

As Muffy ran through the night anxiously hurrying to meet Clive, a figure came out of the dark…riding hard through the darkness., hooves thundering, cape billowing. He had no shadow as he passed swiftly over the cobbled roadway.
Turning, Muffy, stood paralyzed, recognizing the rider. It was Hebron , of Devonshiire..the most feared of all the kings assassins. Why was he here? What was his mission? Why tonight of all the nights she had awaited his arrival? Tonight was to be the new joining, the final appointment between she and Clever Clive.
Clever Clive , her alter ego. The one man in all the kingdoms that had foiled her desires, laughed at her attempts to betray him. The one who had the silver tongue that made her weak with desire for him, even as she plotted his downfall.
What did the King and Hebron want of her?

Dear Clever Clive, the note read that was nailed to the ornate bridge’s pier. I fear that once again treachery has reared it’s ugly head.
Lady Betts, who secretly longs to claim you as the father to her two dozen children, all four legged and furry, has fogged the mind of our Most High King of Kings, Almondheart the Delicious, with treachery and deceit . She and Loose Lips Lisa have joined forces and bought out the PDANA and are at this moment torturing poor Daniel the Lionhearted with libations and libbido. He is on the verge of breaking alligeance to the King and turning you in as the villian., even though we know you are he. I must go posthaste to the village tavern of Mensonlythought and stop these two wicked women. Wait for me, as I’ll return and we will still do the ‘raison de feete , then you will once more crave peanut butter spread and calamari, as I shall feed it to you from a golden breastplate as we find together the hidden key to the riches we both seek

so MuffyBuff Lady Betts screamed you are the one who stole my Golden breast as well my pallidium radio active thong. I want them returned at once free of all peanutbutter and calamari stains!
As well I want Clive the father of my 2dozen furry off spring returned. It is his turn to watch the kids while I go to Bingo!
Enough is enough of this torrid affair ...off with your head or make a peach pie for sage , leave my Clive alone or I shall

Humph!! Try your best Betts!!! We are on to you, you know..Bingo....
what kind of false lead are you tossing out now???? It won't work you know...

it must I am pregnant with yet another litter. There is eleven this time. I need my Clive back .we are getting our own TV show Called"Betts and Clive plus 35 " It will be a hit you see.
So Muffy the vampire must vanish forever.

That is a dirty deed you'ce done....you can't keep having litters like this..but we all know thast Old Sage is the father...Everyone of yours pups have beards or mustasches...wait...maybe it's not Old Sage...It's the Snowman of the Nothern Lights...That old recluse of ages past...Yes, now we know!

Fear not, my sweet Muffy, for I have returned! I have recruited a rather formidable force composed of unbathed street urchins, unemployed crack heads, born again pimps, excommunicated vicars, and various other demented members of the seedier side of our society, and they are successfully dealing out severe punishment unto most of the members of that evil crew of which you speak...

Almondheart has been sent into exile in Luxembourg City where he will be imprisoned along with his devious half brother, Earl Faintjoy of Cashewshire. Hebron has been neutered, tarred and feathered, and boiled in cod liver oil. The lion-hearted Daniel, whom you fancy, will be set free from his rusty chains and soon will return to your side... HOWEVER if he dares but only once to betray you in any way... and therefore me, since you and I share a secret alliance... I shall sic my legion of doom upon his leadened buttocks and weld in your honour no more, the humming sword of Longefellowe, shall he. Let him walk the tight rope of loyalty and be his own judge on such matters...

The fickle members of the PDANA have been cast out of their jungle lair and eliminated in a dance of the stars. Only Lady Bett's, Loose Lips, Old Sage, and their hodgepodge corps remain unmolested. They may slow our progress in locating the Treasure of Peron, but in the end they will fail and will be eventually run out of the country... or crushed by our secret weapon, the Hammer of Thor. Surely by now, they are fully aware of our merciless ferocity... AND if all else doeth fail, I have acquired a new line of poison toiletries from Castor The Constipated Bean which you may, by chance, be able to slip into their well-stocked medicine cabinets since you appear to remain on somewhat friendly terms with these treacherous villains...

As for fathering children with the pole dancing pup, Bett's, "Who hasn't?", says I! They will remain loyal to their father, I'm quite sure, and they may give us invisible feet in the door if things get nasty. It is our precious lovechild, Guinevere The Fair, that matters most to me, my beautiful Muffy. She must inherit our amassed fortunes and establish her rule over our noble land of Nevereverbe. Alas, she has fallen into a state of rebellion and does nothing but sleep, eat sushi, and replenish her Goth wardrobe with funds borrowed from our ill gotten booty...

AND speaking of booty, my heavenly Nevereverbean goddess of love, come hither to me, Muffy... Meet me under the light of the midnight moon... beside the pools of Sinsuwal. There I shall await your delicious presence with open arms and an unquenchable thirst for your exquisite form. Fill, full, the golden chalice with your intoxicatingly sweet nectar and bring it to my pursed lips so that I may bathe all of my senses in your passionate essence; and, we shall engulf our needful bodies in an overwhelming wave of raw sensuality and unimaginable pleasures...

Afterwards, we shall carry out our plan and deliver some long overdue...

Due to anicent sword wound, Old Sage can never be a father again.
Was a mighty battle for the freedom of the site. What was a fantastically functioning body, is now for battle & recreation only.
The price some will pay to keep the world safe.

Never, Lady Betts! Never shall I feel the heat of yon stage lights upon my cotton-clad hiney! The litter is not mine... It cometh from the loins of another not I. Perhaps it is the Old Sages brood... or the Snowman's... ORRRR maybe there is a new stud in the kennel... BUT I am not the sire of your four-footed eleven... AND besides, Kate will whack you on the head with a newspaper if you try to steal her glory...

no no My dearest Clive they are yours all yours. I had a doggie ultra sound and Doggie Dna .They all have white faces and are laughing! Do not deny them their rightful father all for the sake of that wench Muffy Buff.
Old Sage just gave me fleas and ticks, no puppies. I swear.
Please don't tell me you forgot that night in the Bingo hall when you hit the jackpot!
Our Tv show will make us million of dollars and I can get to the groomer and get a funny haircut and you can pretend you like our kids and buy a mansion. Muffy Buff must go..