Chapter Seventeen
The Black Pit of Terror

The heroes arrived at Blennerhassett-on-Isis in the late afternoon, and made for the inn. For some reason of his own, Dumbledalf particularly wanted to avoid bumping into Sara Mann, who lived not far away and occasionally frequented a pub in the area, so it was decided that they would go via a long alleyway that led to an underpass leading beneath a car park, a dual carriageway and some council office buildings. There was some reticence over the decision because it was a notoriously dirty and dangerous place that was a haunt of drunks and vagrants, and usually smelt of stale urine. They entered the entranceway cautiously but, to their surprise, found it clear and comparatively free of litter. After a little way, the tunnel divided into two. Dumbledalf stood staring at the doorway.

"I have no memory of this place", he said after a few moments, "I must consider it". The others looked at him, expecting an answer, but he just sat down on the concrete.
"What’s happened old boy?", asked Hagrigorn, "I rather favour the route to the right", he said, pointing to the right hand path.
"Oh, it’s you!", said Dumbledalf, in surprise. OK, well, yes. It’s as good as any I expect", said Dumbledalf. As they proceeded, noises became evident. It seemed there was a group of people following behind. Dumbledalf could hear their voices, educated, plummy with it, and arrogant tones. ‘Public school’, thought Dumbledalf. A sound of splashing urine, and the strong stench of ammonia reached the nostrils of the nine companions to confirm it. They began to feel very uneasy, and were in danger of becoming caught. The raucous band were gaining on them. They quickened their pace. Suddenly, they became aware that a comparative quiet had fallen. The voices were silent, and there appeared ahead a huge form filling the passageway and blocking out all light except for an illuminated rim at various points, like a bulging eclipse.
"Ayeee!", wailed Enid, "A behemoth!"
"Ware!", cried Hagrigorn, "I do believe he’s frightfully dangerous! I heard tell that on a time he pulled the head clean off a live horse!"
"Hey!", pleaded the behemoth, "It was a foal", nothing too big, and I was a bit pissed at the time, having drunk a little too much. I thought it was going for my nuts!"
"Crikey!", responded Dumbledalf, "That must have been expensive!"
"Yeah!", he sighed, "Quite cleaned me out at the time. Literally actually, but that’s another story".
"Bummer!", said Dumbledalf.
"Quite", said the Behemoth, forlornly.
"Have a care Dumbledalf!", cried Brian, "This is the Behemoth, not some pleasant fellow of a chance meeting on the road!"
"Don’t go near him", said Enid. "He might pull your leg off!"
"That would be a pain in the arse", said Brian.
"Crikey, yes! I should think it would be", observed Tick.
"Language!", said Mary Poppins.
"No, no, no. Calm down everybody. This is the Beer Moth", corrected Dumbledalf. He is drawn to beer. He can no more avoid beer than he can avoid peeing the equivalent of all of his income against a wall. It’s a sad story, but it is true, and now … he has frightened away the creeps in suits. Thank you for that Trevor", Dumbledalf said to him.
"My pleasure Professor", replied the Beer Moth, politely. "Nice to see you again. How are you keeping?"
"Oh, well, I can’t grumble", said Dumbledalf, "And you?"
"You know, same as ever", replied the Beer Wolf.
"Well", said Dumbledalf, "We’d better be getting off", he said, "Things to do, you know".
"Ah yes", replied the Beer Wolf, "Work’s never over, is it? Well, cheerio then".

He walked on ahead, and they waved him goodbye. They could see the path was clear, and there was light. They were nearly through! They made their way out of the underpass, and into the golden sunshine, which was filtered through the fluttering golden leaves of willow trees, and flickered on the ground around them. Dumbledalf looked at Hapless.
"Are you lot still here?", he said.
"We’re just hanging around for a bit longer, since we’re all going in the same direction, mostly.", replied Hapless, defensively.
"Fair enough", agreed Dumbledalf. "Hopefully we’ll get to the pub without incident, and I’ll buy you a beer to set you on your way".
Hapless and Ro looked at each other.
"Look!", said Dumbledalf, "Go to Rowling’s office, find the whore’s crutch, and destroy it! Simple!"
"But where is it?", asked Hapless.
"Where’s what?", asked Dumbledalf, picking fluff from his sleeve.
"Where’s the bollocking office for a start?", said Ro, "We don’t even know where the fornicating college is!"
"Well use your initiative, boys!", said Dumbledalf gleefully. "You are individuals with brains that can think. The trouble with our age is that responsibility has been denied us, so that it is not taken up when it is offered".
Hapless and Ro looked at him as if he was mad.
"My boys", he said. "My boys, we are at the end of an age. We live in a land of weather forecasts and breakfasts that ‘set in". Shat on by Tories; shat on by Labour; shovelled up by nobody". He smiled, "You are young. Now is your time. Off you go!"
"I say", said Hagrigorn, "My Auntie Glad lives up here a little further. It would be super to go round for tea. What do you say chaps? She bakes wonderful muffins!"
"Bitch!", mouthed Fanny.
"Are you kidding?", said Brian. "Unless she has plenty of free ale, you can forget it!", he added bitterly.