Despatch (r)273-b.42
Posted on Saturday, December 15, 2007Those Norwegians are too cheerful for my liking. I don’t believe a trade delegation came all the way here to sell snowmobiles and then stayed up drinking all night before a vital business meeting. Parkenstein suspects they’re from Iceland.
We found the blues club but it’s all a front. Our man wasn’t there and we were stiff-armed by a Russian goon at the door.
Am sorry. Is private party.
I don’t think so.
We had to regroup at the old town gate and make contact with Irina and Markus but now I’m not too sure about them either. It’s hard to know who works for who in this town.
The deadline approaches fast and we still haven’t tracked Disparager down. We may have to leave without him and return with better intelligence.
Stumble it!
December 16th, 2007
In my experience, Norwegians are hairy, intense and the men are often edible-looking, but they are hardly ever cheerful. I think they were imposter Norwegians. But I disagree with Parkenstein. The profile is too perfect, as if they were trying too hard. The Icelanders would never be careless enough to be that studied. I think what you have there is a flock of Fins.
I know, I know, you’re going to say, “But Sam - the transformation would have to be too great! How could a flock of Fins ever hope to approximate a niggle of Norwegians? It’s madness to even try it.”
To which I shall respond with an enigmatic arched eyebrow, as is my way. I might tap my nose too.
December 17th, 2007
Norwegians cheerful?? I think not. You’ve been duped.