Francoís Monréaux -- Fr. Albert Rosilioni

FROM: Dr. Monréaux

TO: Fr. Albert Rosilioni

MESSAGE:

Father Rosilioni, thank you for the lovely gift which you enclosed in your last package. The '67 is an excellent vintage. 

I'm afraid that I am unable to help you, though. I haven't worked for the P.o.S. for over seven years. After the fire they moved the premises to the Far East, so it's not even the P.o.S. anymore, it's the P.o.E. -- As you can imagine, the change of initials led to great changes within the organisation. 

I'm afraid that I can't help much with your second request either. E., of the P.o.S. hasn't been seen in 5 years. I heard that he had moved away after the fire, and he was last seen in Paris at the turn of the Century. 

In any case, the P.o.S. doesn't signify what you think it does. All they really do is deliver mail and occasionally host historical re-enactments. 

Your friend,

Dr. Francoís Monréaux, MD, PhD. 

Captain Derek Dingle's testimony.

TRANSCRIPT: 

Mr. W. M. Billingsbury: Mr. Dingle, is it true that you witnessed the crime?

Captain Dingle: Yes sir. I saw the whole thing.

Mr. W. M. Billingsbury:... And could you describe what you saw?

Captain Dingle: Certainly. It happened about three weeks ago. I was driving past the harbour and I stopped to buy something for my lunch... I was going fishing, you see. Anyway, I got out of the car and I saw [REDACTED] dancing a jig by the water's edge. He was holding a shiny... Like a shiny cup in his hand; the kind that Priests use.

Mr. W. M. Billingsbury: You mean like a chalice? Or a goblet?

Captain Dingle: Yes, yes that's it. A chalice. 

Mr. W. M. Billingsbury: Can you please describe this item for the court?

Captain Dingle: Sure. I'm no expert, I'm just a humble fisherman, but it looked like it was... And please, forgive me if I'm making a fool of myself here... It looked like a chalice of late Medieval design. There were a few precious stones stuck on: sapphires, rubies, diamonds and all that sort of thing. 

Mr. W. M. Billingsbury: I see. Thank you, Mr. Dingle. Please continue.

Captain Dingle:... Continue describing the chalice?

Mr. W. M. Billingsbury: No, no. Please continue your testimony. You were just describing the moment when you first saw [REDACTED] dancing by the water. Please, continue. 

Captain Dingle: Oh yes. Fine. Anyway, I saw him dancing with the cup and then [REDACTED] went over to him and they started to argue. [REDACTED] was trying to grab the... Chalice... from [REDACTED]'s hand, but he wouldn't let go. [REDACTED] then took the harpoon gun and shot [REDACTED] through the chest. He fell into the water and [REDACTED] dived in after him and grabbed the chalice. I ran back into the shop and called the police. [REDACTED] didn't try to get away, though, he just threw stones at passerby and told them that he would be very powerful soon. Then the police came and arrested him. I think he threw the chalice away into the water, but I can't be sure.

Mr. W. M. Billingsbury: Thank you, Mr. Dingle. You're free to go.

Mr. Dingle: Thank you. Goodbye. 

Who is Enoch?

Who is this mysterious "Enoch"? Who is writing a play about him? Why does this person keep referring to a chalice of late Medieval design? How can a play have over 500 Acts? 

These are the questions which have gripped the world... And now we have some answers. 

--

Q.1 - Enoch does not exist. He is a creation of an Irish writer called [REDACTED]. [REDACTED] based his character on an American English teacher. Neither [REDACTED] nor the English teacher could be reached for comment.

Q.2 - [REDACTED] is writing a play about Enoch. 

Q.3 - [REDACTED] is referring to this chalice because he read about it on the English teacher's website: necessaryprose.com - His motives are unclear.

Q.4 - No play has over 500 Acts. [REDACTED] will likely never finish it. 

--

Thanks to Prof. E.E. McMoriarty-Clementine XVI

Act DXLIX, Scene IV

Ms. Lancashire and Mr. E. are trying on hats.

Ms. Lancashire: I say!

Mr. E.: What do you say?

Ms. Lancashire: What a fabulous hat!

Mr. E.: Yes... It is a fabulous hat. 

Ms. Lancashire: I agree, Mr. E. . . . By the way, E., you never told me what your real name is. 

Mr. E.: I am a phantom. My name is Mr. E., as in, mystery! 

Ms. Lancashire: Hmm... Perhaps. How about this one? 

Mr. E.: I like it. It acts as a foil for your ridiculously round face.

Ms. Lancashire: Here, E., try this top hat on. It'll suit you.

Mr. E.: I look foppish. 

Ms. Lancashire: If by foppish you mean incredibly handsome, then yes, you look very foppish.

Mr. E.: You are a gracious lady, Ms. Lancashire. Now, tell me about this chalice you have lost.

Ms. Lancashire:... It happened a few weeks ago, E. -- I was tending my garden, and I heard a noise from the house. I ran back inside and saw that my chalice, which is usually hidden among my collection of Art Deco lamps, was missing. It's obviously been stolen, but who would want an old chalice of late Medieval design? It's not worth very much; a few of the precious gems are missing from the rim. 

Mr. E.:... Ms. Lancashire... Are you in contact with an organisation called... The P-- 

Suddenly Mr. E. drops to the floor. There is a dart lodged in his back. 

END SCENE.

Act III, Scene XVII

Act III, Scene XVII 

The curtain opens on Dr. Olongo, Ms. Sheperoa, Prof. O'Sea, Lord and Lady E. Vill and Enoch, handsome and intelligent.

Prof. O'Sea: Truly, the intelligence of Enoch knows no equal. 

Enoch: Professor, you are a wise and learned man. But I am Enoch! No man's wit is sharper than mine, and your crudely fashioned psychological tricks will not dissuade me from my course... I know that one of... YOU!... Killed Ms. Penelope Shingle. 

Lord E. Vill: Poppycock. This Enoch is a rogue! A knave! An impertinent oaf more suited to shining shoes than to investigating murder. Now, please, get out of mine and my wife's way. We are very important, innocent people. 

Enoch: Not... So... Fast, Lord Vill. Where precisely were you when--

Dr. Olongo: Alas! Enoch is a cad. 

Ms. Shepeora: Dr. Olongo, please contain yourself! Enoch's great intelligence is at work. 

Lady E. Vill: Tish and pish, Shepeora. Enoch's a cad! Why, everyone has heard that.

The room erupts into loud chatter. Arguments concerning Enoch come from all sides. Ms. Shepeora and Lord E. Vill engage in a sword fight using decorative Art Deco lamps; Lady E. Vill sets fire to a settee and pushes it out of a window; Dr. Olongo strangles Prof. O'Sea with a length of wire and decapitates him. 

Enoch steps forward.

Enoch: ENOUGH!

The fight ends.

Enoch: Lo! See what your madness has done?! Prof. O'Sea's head is off his scrawny shoulders. Can my handsomeness truly mean so much?!... Dr. Olongo, when the power has been restored to the house, I intend to phone the Police to report this dastardly crime.

Lord E. Vill: Good idea, Enoch! I propose we viciously slaughter Ms. Shepeora next! 

Ms. Shepeora: Ha! No! Let's kill Lord E. Vill using this Baroque pillar! That will show him, the oaf.

Ms. Shepeora moves towards a giant pillar and tries to crush Lord E. Vill. She does not succeed.

Lord E. Vill: Dotard! That pillar is many thousand times your weight, you could not hope to move it!

Enoch:... This mystery deepens. 

End scene.

What happened that day? Who lost the dossiers?!

From: P-----------@hotmail.com
To: Enoch616@gmail.com
Subject: Meeting time + place CHANGED
Date: Wed. 02, July 2006 14:47:25 +0000

Dear Jacques,

Please note that the time and place of tomorrow's meeting have changed.

The meeting will now take place in the Sholl & Sons bank at 5:00pm. Please remember to bring the dossiers. If the Robertson deal is to reach a conclusion before the 12th, I will need to browse the document and finalise all aspects with both parties.

Yours,
Prof. Allen Watson, M.D., Ph.D

Bad news on soprano scene

To: Rich, Affluent and Philanthropic Inc. 
From: Enoch, handsome and intelligent. 

Message:

Permanently out-sold by inferior works of drama, my latest piece, "Enoch: Handsome and Intelligent" has fallen by the wayside. I am writing to you to request much-needed funding to expand our limited resources.

At present our small troupe operates out of an abandoned post office: the once-famous Postal Office of the South (P.o.S.) which you will recall played host to the now legendary debacle concerning a 5-inch chalice of late Medieval design with a few of the precious gems missing from around the rim and a shady secret society.

In any case, we urgently require funding. The absolute minimum amount we require to mount an adequate production of "Enoch: Handsome and Intelligent" is £100,000.00.

Please contact my office if you have any enquiries. The address is:

The Post Office,
Sion Hill,
Summersville,
XZ16 84L

Yr. Obt. Svt.

Enoch!

The Poetry of Enoch Poss

Mr. E. Deitor, 

I, Enoch Poss (Hand. and Intel.), enclose here the first few poems of what I know will be the most successfull collection of romantic poetry to ever be published. 

I demand an advance of £600,000.00 to secure the rest of my astonishingly good poetry. 

Yours,
Enoch, handsome and intelligent. 

* 

-- Poem #1 --

I'm Enoch!
Sheathing my foot is a sock.
Shouldn't we stop and all take stock,
Of the handsomeness and intelligence of Enoch?

I'm Enoch!
My mind's as sturdy as a lock
That has no key, so get a rock
To smash the lock that's Enoch!

Great is Enoch!
Great and fair,
For poetry he has a flair
On the balcony and stair.

-- Poem #2 --

The flowers, true, are very pretty
And, yes, the sun is pretty bright
But I am pretty, and I'm witty!
And the sun's eclipsed by my great might.

I concur, the breeze is nice
And I enjoy the taste of chilli
But better yet than flavoured rice,
Is Enoch! "Who's he?!". Don't be silly!

Enoch is as summer rain,
Cascading down the barren hill;
Relieves all pained folk of their pain
And removes all ailed folk from their ill!

-- Poem #3 --

E - E is for Enoch: wise and fair.
N - N is for "Never have I seen a man so handsome!"
O - O is for "Oh my God! Enoch is so incomparably handsome!"
C - C is for "Can you even imagine anyone as impeccably dressed as Enoch?!"
H - H is for "Hell's bells! Enoch sure is accomplished and handsome!"

*

A review of Enoch Poss's latest dramatic endeavour...

This review of Enoch Poss's latest work: ENOCH: HANDSOME AND INTELLIGENT, was submitted to the editor of the Paper of Springfield by famed alchemist and gynaecologist, Dr. Peter O'Shaunessey. 

*

When a student of mine brought Enoch Poss's latest piece of dramatic drivel to my desk, I recall thinking "Oh dear. This will not be a good, well-rounded and impeccably structured piece of drama." 

Indeed, my preliminary supposition proved to be nothing less than the complete truth. To Enoch Poss, the notion of well-written prose is a foreign as a Frenchman in Florence. 

Anyone who has had the misfortune to read the innacurately titled "Enoch: Handsome and Intelligent" (He has never, and will never be either of those things) will understand how truly pandering the work is. It exists only as an exercise in self-appreciation of the most unnecessary and innacurate degree. What's worse is that the exclamation-strewn work reflects Poss's own high opinion of his meagre achievements.

The characters are one-dimensional and unbelievable. Especially Poss. The cavalier, swashbuckling suaveness that drips like maggots from a meaty fissure in diseased flesh, presents Poss as a Scarlet Pimpernell-esque hero who roams the land saving women who seem, despite their superficial problems, to be more concerned with swooning at the sight of Poss's bulging body parts than with seeking reparations and revenge upon the host of unnecessary and fleeting characters who further add to the nonsensical and overly complex plot.

This succinct review does not do justice to the abysmal work of Enoch Poss. It is by far-and-away his worst offering in the past decade. One wonders who exactly it is that encourages him to continue to write such nonsense. I speak for all fans of good theatre when I sincerely implore, "Enoch Poss, please, never pick up your pen, tap your typewriter or click your keyboard ever again. I also implore all purveyors of writing materials; pens, pencils, notebooks etc. to REFUSE service to Mr. Poss. Ban him from your establishments. Summom the authorities if he enters within a five foot radius of your door. Let us all unite to protect the good reputation of the theatre."

I remain your obedient servant and friend,

Dr. Peter O.Shaunessey, M.D. 

Enoch: Handsome and Intelligent!

Recovered from former premises of the P.o.S. - E.'s play: Act 1, Scene 1.

*

Foreword by Sgt. V. V. D. L. T. K.: I don't know how you got this email address. I don't know you, and I certainly do not know anything about a missing chalice. Nor will I, as a public official, provide a personal or professional endorsement for any personal or professional endeavours of any person or professional, personally or professionally. 

*

ACT 1, SCENE 1.

The curtain rises. Enoch, an incredibly handsome man in his late 30s, stands alone in the centre of the stage. The setting is a lavish parlour room. 

Enoch: It is I! Enoch Poss. Inarguably the handsomest, intelligentist, most intelligent Postal Officer in the whole South!

Enter ORLAITH and CHARMANE.

Orlaith and Charmane: Truly! Oh, but Enoch! Misery and woe have fallen upon we two fair maidens. Surely no man is as wise as you, nor any man as brave. Therefore we handsome and well-proportioned women do ask of you your help! Deign to assist us, fair Enoch. For you are wise and handsome. 

Enoch: You both speak true. I can see that you are perceptive women, and I, Enoch Poss, handsomest and most intelligent of all men, shall lend you my assistance. But tell me fair and well-proportioned women, what is it that troubles you? For what reason have you sought the help of I, Enoch Poss, handsomest and most intelligent of all Postal workers, bar none?

Charmane: Oh Enoch! Had we but known of your great wisdom and kindness, we would have sought out your help long ago. (To the audience) His great bravery and handsome features set him apart from other, lesser men! Enoch has no equal! 

Orlaith: Enoch! A rapscallion is harassing us! We have come to ask you to waylay his postage as punishment. But seeing you now. . . Your muscles, your tanned skin, your bulging. . . Oh my, I seem to have fallen faint at the thought of your incredible, undeniable handsomeness and intelligence. 

Enoch: A rapscallion, eh? Bounder! Oaf! Lothario! Philanderer! Debauchee! Libertine! I shall slay the unsuspecting fool ere dawn breaks o'er my handsome features. For I am Enoch Poss! Handsomest and most intelligent of all men! Go now, fair maidens, I shall greet you again when the deed is done. 

END SCENE.