At four
o'clock in the afternoon of the fifteenth of
February 1895 young Arnos Grove dutifuly took the opium pipe from his
grandfather's sleeping hand, emptied the partially smoked contents into
the nearest receptacle he could find and, having carefully placed the
pipe in its velvet lined case, turned the light off, quietly closed the
door behind him and returned to his room.
While Arnos played alone in his
room his grandfather,
Ladbroke, dreamed of young men, drink and debauchery, reliving his
youth through his reverie, aided in no small part by the rather special
opium he had been smoking. These dreams were to be his last, for when
his son Theobalds Grove (who was afflicted with an undiagnosed, but
well hidden multiple personality disorder) ventured into his father's
study the following morning he found Ladbroke dreaming the eternal
dream.
The funeral came and went; the
family moved on. All of
Ladbroke's possessions were packed up and moved to the new home in
Scunthorpe. Or nearly all, for there was a mug, last used on
the evening of Ladbroke's passing, which still contained the
discarded half-smoked contents of his final pipe, and which fell
unnoticed from the table into a warm, damp hole next to the hearth,
where it stayed for many a year.
Undisturbed by human life a
culture began to grow in the
mug. Warmed by the hearth and nourished by the particularly erotic
blend of opium and ash, the culture became sentient and, as the decades
passed, developed a human form. It heard the music of many generations
and witnessed the debauchery of many politicians' parties, always
learning, always craving the sensations that he had only witnessed in
others.
On a wet Thursday morning, more
than a century after
Ladbroke slipped away, Mugfungus emerged, ready to experience the
world, and hoping the world was ready to experience him...
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