The Gingerbread Grail- Chapter 1

Date: 16th July 2004
Subject: GammahydroxybutyrateGreenEnterRaidAchesItemsIgnition
BacteriorhodopsinsAntsGammahydroxybutyrateRecievedpronunciationEnergised DeinstitutionalizedNapierianlogarithmRadioimmunologicalLactatedehydrogenase

From: dfjddjfkv@fkgkggkf.tk
To: d.watts@***mail.co.uk

Have to get this out somewhere before I die but unfair to load onto friends or family.
Picked you at random. Filtered this. All I can do.
What you choose to do with it is your own business.
11:49 20th July
St James Garlickhithe
Watch for the sour men.

And I’m done.

PS- Not totally at random. Always liked The Kinks.

It began, as so many stories do, with a man clearing out his email inbox because he hadn’t checked it for 2 weeks because he’d been rushed into hospital after nearly choking to death on a half-digested piece of calamari while having dinner with a wig salesman.
David hadn’t been paying attention, distracted by a window cleaner outside nearly falling off his platform and had accidentally clicked on the spam. It seemed a little off, a considering that it was usually an entreaty to send someone his bank details or to get a large supply of Cialis, whatever that was.
It came from an address that was little more than a jumble of letters and had a subject line compose of random words but the actual email was strangely lucid. It didn’t look like it was randomly sent to him because whoever had sent it had at least picked up on the David Watts/ Kinks reference that had annoyed the scones out of David since childhood.
It sounded like some kind of attempt at a wind up, some kind of elaborate
con where someone convinced you to go to a church in the middle of the night and turned you over, probably some kind of elaborate mugging/happy slapping arrangement with religious overtones.
But what was it about this that caused a potent burning sensation deep within his sinuses, indicating that receiving this email was the most significant event in his entire life, possibly not including his actual birth and/or death? What?
David was sick of such scams. Today was the 20th. He was sorely tempted to gather a few of his more hardy friends and make that 11:49 appointment at the Church, apprehend these parasites.
David had made a lot of adventurous friends at his new job, which was…

Now it’s your turn! What was David’s new job? Fishmonger? Pinball Machine Designer? International Jewel Thief! Email your own suggestion to me* at the address at the top of the page and the best one will go into this poorly constructed, entirely unplanned conspiracy tale! Thrill at the thought of being part of this exciting mystery! Impress the more simple-minded of your friends!
INTERACT!



*But not any of the suggestions I made because that would defeat the point.