The Duel

Readers, you join me as I prepare to do battle with Carol Doocot's beau whom I intend to slay in order to prove my love for Doocot. When she sees me standing over his bloody corpse, doubtless she will realise how serious my love for her is and will devote her life to me. I hope she will help me dispose of the body discreetly so that we can avoid a scandal.

I am in Dundee University Library using their computer machines to type this message. As I will be updating you on the duel while the fight is in progress, I trust you will excuse any inelegancies. At the moment, Doocot's beau is standing by the photocopier, photocopying an entire chapter from Catholic Social Teaching and the Market Economy by Philip Booth. As he stands there, willfully breaking copyright agreement, he remains unaware that he must shortly die at my hands.

As he was boorish enough not to respond to my invitation to duel like a gentleman, I have spent the last few days tracking him down and following him around Dundee. He is an Economics student which to my mind is crime enough. Despite being no great looker, he has somehow succeeded in seducing Doocot. Surely, Svengali-like, he has utilized the mesmeric arts to hoodwink Doocot into becoming his lover. Luckily, I am here to save her.

He goes to leave. I am now typing ths with my left hand as I use my right hand to remoive my fenciong sword from the trouser leg in which I concealed it. TH ebounder is going.

Readers, I have just shouted across the library to him. He is looking over. I am typing this just now, though, so when I get to the end of this sentence I will taunt him again.

The taunt successful, he is making his way over here. I am now using my right hand tio type this as I remove a secoind fencing sword from my left trouser leg. As I am a gentleman, I will provide Doocot's beau with a sword so that the fight will be fair.

I have just challenged him to a duel and handed him a fencing sword (actually a straightened-out wire coathanger affixed to a sieve: although I believe in being sporting, there is no call in being too sporting). He laughs in my face, the swine. I have struck him on the arm with my sword, drawing blood.

I have explained to him that I must remain seated during our fight to the death as I have an anxious readership to keep informed but he seems distracted. He is wailing and clutching his arm. He refuses to fight back, so I am forced to strike him a second time. This time, I stab him in the knee ,8ddedfbnhgdrsghL

Readers, Doocot's beau just struck me in the ear with his sword. No gentleman he! It stings like buggery but he has not managed to lop it off. As I am typing this, I am jabbing him repeatedly in the leg and groin with my sword. He is pulling me away from thhe coopomuter terminal but I hav managgerd ti kjeep hold of the keyboasrd and keep typingh. He is stomping on my legs wehich is pasinful beyond the telling of it. A security guard is aspprtoaching - - I must finish this quickly. I stab doocot's beau in the chest.


THe securityy guard haas
he;s wrestlin me off and


i will click ;publi'sh post''' the brute has a grip ojn me
doocots beau is llying derad i hav triumphed



mnb yfghjb45 /