![]() ![]() Then they arrived at Peru, land of the Gloomy Parrot. Why Peru? Why not? They found rounding Cape Horn a bit of a trial, especially as the boat had a hole in it. Our doughty band set off for Peru in a boat. "Be off! Trouble me not with trifling questions," said Jon, flinging the bottle of Black Treacle Grott at his head. "Where should we look for it?" enquired Cosmo. "How shall we recognise it," wondered Cyril. It has a head and forepaws, then there is a space and then it has a tail and rear paws." "It looks a bit like a cat," said Jon, "only it has no middle. ![]() "I did not say a cat, I said a catt, with two t's." "Foolish youth," said Jon, taking a swig from a bottle of Black Treacle Grott he kept beneath a cushion. "I say," protested Cyril, "the cat isn't a cryptid." ![]() "There is a cryptid I want you to track down," said Jon, sipping languidly at his glass. Cyril had his shrimping net, Cosmo had a popgun only the cork was lost and Eliza had a bottle of ginger beer. Jonathan Downes sat in his chair, a glass of Black Treacle Grott in his hand, and faced the Investigation Team of the CFZ. ![]()
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