Hidden Moustaches


The hidden moustaches are in the houses.

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Please note it is not that the moustaches are hidden in the houses: their hiddenness precedes these (and possibly all) houses.

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Though the hidden moustaches may in addition be hidden in these particular houses – our information is not clear on this point.

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It’s possible that, as part of this further hiddenness, all the hidden moustaches may be in one of the houses, we simply don’t know.

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It is also not clear whether or not this further hiddenness is an aspect of the original hiddenness or a new and separate hiddenness.

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Perhaps the boy told to move the hidden moustaches to their new safe house or houses was inspired by their secret history and hid them.

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Much about the hidden moustaches, such as whose face or faces they once graced, or are in the future intended to grace, remains mysterious.


We may have been misinformed: it now transpires that the hidden moustaches could instead be in the horses. Please adjust accordingly.

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Our sources are unclear as to whether the hidden moustaches are in the horses or on the horses, though the latter seems counter-instinctual.

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Queries are reaching us as to whether the hidden moustaches might be made of horsehair, thus allowing them to be hidden in the horses.

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We must stress that the hidden nature of the hidden moustaches means that we can have no idea what material if any they may be made of.

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We could be surrounded – nay, immersed – in hidden moustaches at this moment, and our understanding is, so well are they hidden, we wouldn’t know.

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Queries are reaching us re whether our use of ‘nay’ was a hint that the hidden moustaches were definitely hidden in or on the horses. No.

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Please be aware: the proximity and/or scale of the hidden moustaches may interfere with our reception of both information and/or queries.

Annals of Chicken Horse Island, 1: The Vampire Squid Bell

The Vampire squid bell, tolling in the fathomless deeps of the Blood Sea

Every year a giant vampire squid is woven from wicker in an attempt to lure Doc Moreau to Chicken Horse Island and sacrifice him to the fire.
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As you approach the only navigable harbour on Chicken Horse Island from the sea, its horse-headed promontory is immediately identifiable…

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As you prepare to land your biplane or dirigible on Chicken Horse Island, the coastline’s resemblance to a chicken is obvious & distracting.

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It doesn’t help that as you try to steer your boat into harbour the entire population of Chicken Horse Island cluck n neigh upon the pier.

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Some are dressed as chickens, some as horses, some as a ragged amalgam of both. Many jab canes into the air with chicken heads on the ends.

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It doesn’t help that, as you try to land your plane, you suddenly realise that the runway is in the exact position of the chicken’s cloaca.

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Every year thousands of devotees cram onto Chicken Horse Island for the casting of a new Vampire Squid Bell, which is then thrown in the sea

Horses. Owls. Bonedog.

Every man has forgotten when he was a horse; every horse remembers when he was a man.

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Every horse thinks he is Superhorse, galloping across the galaxies so that God may feed him Space Lumps.

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An empty crisp packet makes an ideal sleeping bag for a small owl: just pop it over the owl on its perch, and it will fall into a deep sleep.

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Owls love lemonade, and will fly many miles in pitch darkness to sip from a fizzy saucerful: they steer by the carbonated pops.

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Every night, unbeknownst to you, a dog made only of bones comes and sleeps at the foot of your bed. Bonedog is so lonely…

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So you don’t wake, Bonedog plants a dream that you are sharing your bed with the lover you love best. To his surprise, this often backfires.

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When the people in your dreams aren’t looking, scratch them with a spoon: if it’s chalk underneath, they’ve been planted in your dream by Bonedog.