The 2CV Alaska Challenge

On a stormy night Brad Sergeant and Janet Heiss are out driving in their Citroën 2CV when they get a flat tire. They seek help in a strange castle in the middle of nowhere. After being shown inside the castle by the valet, Gobbledegook, they are introduced to their host, a transvestite called Count Sticklestein.

"She was a maiden of the rarest beauty," said the Count, gesturing to an oval portrait that hung upon the wall. These were his first words to Janet and I and such was our confusion that we were unable to find a reply. The Count continued: "but she was humble and obediant, and sat meekly for many weeks in the dark high-turret chamber where the light dripped upon the pale canvas only from overhead." We shuffled awkwardly. Janet mumbled something about the weather. Count Sticklestein turned and his dark eyes swept over us. In our discomfort we viewed the tall, slim transvestic vision, his height and build accentuated by high heels, his face mask-like with deep red lipstick and bright blue eyeshadow, his frame subdued by a flowing black cape beneath which were visible his fishnet stockings. The Count’s silvery, slicked-back hair revealed the era of his existance and his voice had a deep resonance that bounced around the stone walls of the chamber. "You will dine with me."

We reclined in heavy chairs while the storm tormented itself outside the leaded window. I surveyed the chamber, lit by a single candelabra, the carvings on the ceiling, the sombre tapestries on the walls, the ebon blackness of the floor, and the phantasmagoric armorial trophies.

The valet, Gobbledegook, waited upon us and his hideous appearence sent a shiver into the deepest recesses of my soul. This poor creature spoke no words as he brought to our table a feast of succulent dishes, but all the while he grinned often, revealing that his teeth badly needed the attention of a dental surgeon.

At the end of this silent feast the Count gently dabbed his lips with a silken cloth and crossed one stockinged leg over the other. "These appearences, which bewilder you, are merely phenomena not uncommon." He arose from his chair and drew the black cape around him. "In beauty of face no maiden ever equalled her." He gazed at the portrait and I, too, let my eyes fall upon it. The heavy bone structure, the shadow visible around the jowls and upper lip, the rippling muscles contrived a strange female indeed."You are thinking perhaps that I suffer from a nervous malaise. Men have called me mad; but the question is not yet settled, whether madness is or is not the loftiest intelligence." He paused, deep in thought, then: "you drive a Citroën 2CV." Count Sticklestein gestured us over to the gothic window. He pulled back the heavy velvet drapes and a sudden, violent flash of lightening revealed a row of 2CV’s in the castle’s cobbled courtyard.

For a moment we were taken aback, but then Janet managed to lay expression to her surprise. The Count was unmoved.

"I have no interest in these automobiles myself. My servant, Gobbledegook, has feelings for them."

Janet and I spoke of the marvels of the 2CV, yet the Count ignored us. Excessive fatigue induced him to step away from the window. His eyes went wide and as he spoke his cloak rustled upon his fishnet stockings.

"My lady of the portrait was influenced to partake of a new range of cosmetics, but they had a profound effect upon her constitution. The chemicles burnt and blistered her fair skin, hideously disfiguring her. The cuticle came away in strips and acidly melted, running down her perfect loveliness to her innocent, yielding lips, from whence she developed the taste for human flesh."

In violet distress the Count paused, and a fearful idea suddenly drove the blood in torrents upon my heart. I gazed once more at the portrait and then I looked at, Gobbledegook.

The Count espied my actions.

"My servant finds that Ford owners are too lean, too sinewy, Mercedes owners too fat, too flabby, but he finds that Citroën 2CV owners have the tenderest, most succulent flesh."

Count Sticklestein licked his thumb and forefinger and moved across to the candelabra. "It’s a curse upon his soul, but the unfortunate creature cannot help it." The Count began snuffing out the candles one by one until only a single flame flickered. "We have been waited upon and we have feasted and now it is time for Gobbledegook to feast..." He snuffed out the last candle and darkness fell upon the chamber.