realthog

The other day hutch0 (http://hutch0.livejournal.com/), who should have known better, foolishly asked to have a gander at the first four (and so far only) chapters of Da Easter Bunny Code, my unfinished Dan Brown parody. Well, naturally I sent him several copies before he'd finished getting the words out of his mouth.

His reaction -- a failure to cast himself from a high building, and so far as I can tell not a single bout of uncontrollable vomiting (As an aside, have you ever experienced controllable vomiting? Well, neither have I. So why is it people always feel they have to describe vomiting as "uncontrollable", as if normally you'd upchuck with a certain debonair aplomb, and only for the entertainment of your fellow sophisticates?) -- was such that I'm beginning to wonder if I should post it here.

Hm.

Not sure about this.

However, what I'll do for the moment is paste the blurb here, then stand back and see if the Vatican threatens to sue. Or the Priory of Sion. Or if I'm found one morning with all the blood drained out of me, having been murdered by the infliction of a million discrete paper cuts, each administered by a page from a separate copy of The Da Vinci Code.

And not just any page from The Da Vinci Code.

Oh no.

An albino page from . . .

I'd better get on with the blurb, hadn't I? I think I'll place it cunningly after the cut.

Da Easter Bunny Code

John "Dan" Grant

Dead men can tell cottontails!

In a basement gallery of the Louvre, a murdered man lies gruesomely dead. But, before he died, Cardinal Lebowski mutilated his own body in elaborate ways in order to leave clues for those who discovered him – clues that Sûreté ace Inspector Gaston Cluedeaux cannot understand.

Yet perhaps those clues can be interpreted by Roger Lapin, the foremost symbolatrist in the entire known world, and Natalie de la Fourche, probably the foremost and certainly the most pneumatically curvaceous decoderizer in the entire known world, both of whom happen by fortunate chance to be nearby. But they are also Cluedeaux's prime suspects in the murder!

On the run from the vengeful lawman and stalked by the mad psychopathic monk Ted Bunny, can Roger and the really quite astonishingly attractive Natalie solve the mysteries of the hidden cult of Dopus E.B. and the awful secret of what Lebowski deciphered in one of the Dead Sea Scrawls concealed centuries ago among the Most Forbidden shelves of the Vatican Library?

For, if revealed to the world, this secret could spell the end of the Christian Church . . .

In the beginning was the Word, and the Word was the Easter Bunny!

Powerful Vatican forces are ranged against Roger and the increasingly underclad Natalie, but who can tell which side the Pope himself – Pope Jimbo I, formerly known as Bad Rapper and now the first American incumbent of the papacy – is on?

And where does a banana skin fit into all this?

For the start of the text, see http://realthog.livejournal.com/7386.html.