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In the Paris map, we notice that the location of the Hotel Ubu has been unlocked. Nice.
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Upon arrival at the Hotel, we find a pair of suspiciously looking guys guarding the door. They don't seem to mind George presence, but obviously are 'bad dudes'. You can enter the hotel safely and they don't bother you, but let's talk to them. Maybe they know a thing or two.
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Guido: Yes?
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Don't ask me how do I know the name of this italian gangster, but he's called Guido. Maybe he knows something about Khan?
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Do you know a man by the name of Khan?
No I don’t
It’s very important I get to see him, and...
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Uhm... maybe they don't know him by that name. Lets try with something else... What about the clown?
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I’m looking for a clown.
Are you trying to be funny?
No -- I really
am looking for a clown.
There are no clowns here except you.
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Okay, that didn't work. We ask Guido about Plantard.
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No. That name means nothing to me.
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Damn, that didn't work either. Maybe if I show him Khan's picture.
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Do you recognize the guy in this photograph?
No. I never saw him.
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Well, that was the last useful thing that we could ask. Let's talk now with the dumb-looking gangster.
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Flap (!!!): Yeah?
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Show Khan's picture.
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Do you recognize the guy in this photograph?
Is this a trick question?
No. I simply asked if you recognized him.
Okay, then -- no, I don’t.
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Okay. And what about Khan himself?
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Do you happen to know a guy called Khan?
That ain’t nobody I know.
I’m sorry to be a burden to your brain.
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Lets keep pressing with the questions. This brick-lifter knows something, I think. Next question: Plantard.
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You ever meet a guy called Plantard?
No I ain’t.
If you’re quick you’ll catch him at the coroner’s.
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Okay. Last question. The clown.
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Have you seen a guy dressed as a clown?
Aw -- that’s too bad. I love the clowns, don’t you?
I’ve seen daytime television that was funnier.
I love it when the little guys get hurt.
That figures.
A plank in the kisser.
See you later.
Not if you see me first!
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This was just a waste of time (like this LP). Lets enter the Hotel.
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We are inside the Hotel (duh!). At first sight there's no sign of Khan, just an old lady playing the piano and this weird looking guy reading the newspaper. We'll just ask everyone about Khan, until we get some clues or we face him in person. Lets begin with the old woman.
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Well, hello. What can I do for you?
I’m looking for a man...
You disappointment me, my dear.
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This old lady is a riot, and she's completely crazy, just wait.
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Aren't you going to tell me your name?
George. George Stobbart, ma’am.
How sweet! I once had a stable boy called George.
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Snobbish and rude english woman, what a surprise.
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A real Lady? I mean... you are an honest-to-god aristocrat?
I don’t know about that. Few of my ancestors were honest; not even to God. I can trace my family back to the Normans... but don’t let that intimidate you, George.
Beneath that impressive pedigree I’m just flesh and blood.
You appear distracted, George. Is there any way I can help you?
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Okay. Lets beggin with Khan picture, as both are Hotel guest, maybe she has seen him.
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Do you recognize the man in this photograph?
My god! It’s him. That’s Moerlin!
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Huh?
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She represented I loved about the English. The lady was totally deranged.
Merlin? You mean King Arthur's wizard?
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That's a good start. She
does know him, but he uses a different name in the Hotel. Clever (or obvious).
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The man you know as Moerlin is fake.
What do you mean sweetie?
He’s a murderer. He also uses the name ‘Khan’.
I’m shocked, Mister Stobbart. Shaken! I took him a gentleman, a man of honor... Do you know, I'd like to assist you in stitching him up!
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This is getting better. Somehow, she knows Khan/Moerlin, and as they had some kind of falling, she's willing to assist me in finding him.
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It was no more than an hour ago. He came downstairs and spoke to that clerk chappie. Something passed hands -- I couldn’t see what exactly.
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Damn. He's not in the Hotel. But at least we know that he left something.
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A briefcase?
The clerk put it in the hotel safe, and Moerlin went out.
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So Khan left something of importance, some kind of documents in the Hotel safe. Now we
must get this stuff.
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Are you sure you saw Moerlin putting documents in the safe?
Yes, darling. Positive.
Obviously something of great importance.
Yeah. I’d sure like to get my hands on whatever it is. I bet they had something to do with Plantard’s briefcase...
No he hasn't. Are you going to search his room?
If I could get in there I would.
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Yes George, we
will try to get in there. Trust me. Just for the lulz, we attempt to use the buzzer on Lady Piermont...
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I couldn't bring myself to use the buzzer on this dear Lady...
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...without the expected results. Bummer. Lets talk about the pair of guys guarding the hotel entrance.
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What makes you think he's a gangster?
The Italian suit and the bulge on his pocket.
That doesn't necessarily makes them gangsters!
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Oh Lady Piermont. Okay, and what about yourself?
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Are you here on Paris on vacation?
No darling, I'm on holiday. I need to get away after Algy’s funeral.
I didn't realize you were mourning the loss of a loved one.
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R00fles! I'm starting to like this lady even more than Nicole.
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I’m sorry to hear about your husband’s death...
You wouldn’t be if you knew him, my dear. It gave me the opportunity to take a well-deserved holiday. Daphne suggested a change of scenery: Paris, she said.
Well, the closest I came to romance was being wooed by a drunken Breton chef. I must say I was disappointed with his
coq au vin.
Not at all what I was expecting. I was thinking of cutting my holiday short, packaging my bags and heading back for Hemel Hempstead... That was... until last night.
I was stricken, Mr. Stobbart. Cupid’s arrow has cleft my bosom!
He couldn’t really miss...
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Oh come on George! She could be your ticket to get more clues about the killer!
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It was just as I ‘d always imagined it should be. The intimacy of candlelight, romantic music tinkling across the room... And then -- a stranger’s glance!
He was the man I’d been waiting for all my life.
I’m glad he finally turned up after all these years.
Ah, but it wasn’t to be. He was merely toying with my affections! And if I ever catch up with him, he’s dead.
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Well, that was the last think of "value" that we could learn from this old crazy lady. We got plenty of info, and she offered to help us further. But for the moment, we move on.
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OK, time to pester the gentleman with the funny pants.
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Excuse me -- didn't I see your picture in the newspaper? You're that Nobel Prize winner, from some unpronounceable Easter European state?
: x Yes. That's me, in person.
I don't want to worry you, but have you had any threats in your life? You know -- mysterious phone calls, letters made up of headlines cut from the newspaper...
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Fucking George. Straight to the point.
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We unleash our know routine of asking annoying questions.
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Do you know a guy named Plantard?
I don’t know anybody in Paris.
Oh. Well, this guy is dead anyhow.
Why do you ask me about dead men?
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George exposes himself as just another insensitive kwan.
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I'm... uh, sure you have
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Next question: the clown.
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Have you seen a clown?
I beg your pardon?
My pants are from England. Marks and Spencer. They are a pleasure and a comfort to wear, with much support.
I’m real glad to hear that. You know, it’s good to know you Nobel Prize winners are human too.
In my country the people make do with strings and egg cartoons.
For everything. Oppression is the mother of ingenuity.
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Stalin would be proud of this man. Show him Moerlin picture.
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Do you recognize this man? He calls himself ‘Khan’.
Yes. I know this man. Why do you carry his photograph?
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Bingo!
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This is a photo of Khan, right?
That is just one of the names by which he's known.What's your interest in Khan?
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Wow! This Khan is a freaking celebrity.
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How do you know him?
He's an enemy of my people.
You know he's a killer?
Would you help me to investigate Khan?
That’s not possible. My instructions are to observe. I cannot jeopardize my position as an honoured guest of this country’s government.
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What a fucking chicken. This potato obviously knows a lot more about Khan, and not just because both are hotel guests. But he won't help us, even as the killer is enemy of both of us. This guys deserves to get the joy buzzer treatment.
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May I shake you by the hand?
That’s a real bad attitude problem you’ve got there. Thanks for your help.
Goodbye.
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He's just a hardcore communist, like our very own
Kukulkan. Whatever. Lets continue with our quest.
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As per the tailor comment, Khan's room is upstairs, in the second door on the left. Lets check it out.
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Bummer. Lets try the other two doors.
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As expected, none of the doors can be opened. Lets return downstairs.
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And the next thing that we'll do is talk with the Hotel clerk.
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I want some information.
Who are you -- the police?
I’m conducting a private investigation.
Ah! I know only too well what you mean.
When people book into an hotel, they leave their morals at home, non?
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Let's see what can we gatter about Khan.
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Do you recognize the man in this photograph?
Yes, m’sieur. That man is one of our guests.
What name?
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Damn!
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Can you tell me which room the man in the photography has taken?
Oh, no m’sieur! That information is confidential.
Would it make a difference if I told you the guy in the photo was a murderer?
We are accustomed to catering for celebrities, m’sieur. Movie stars, politicians, royalty, sporting personalities -- they all stay here.
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What a jerk, but understandable. At least he makes a good clerk. Time to ask for everything else, starting with Plantard.
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Non, m’sieur.
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I'm getting Todryk vibes with this guy, which means that it's almost sure that we won't get anything useful from the clerk. Well, at least in this part. Lets see what can we gatter about the papers Khan stored in the Hotel safe.
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I’d like to retrieve something from your safe...
Ah oui, m’sieur. May I see some form of identification?
Uh... like what?
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I don't drive.
Your passport?
I don’t have it with me. I could show you my operation scar...?
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Yeah George, that will be of real help with this guy.
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I’m sorry m’sieur. I must have some form of unique I.D.
I’m sorry. I must insist on a more traditional identification.
Rats!
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No cookie. At this point we just keep making more questions.
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I’m looking for a man that dresses like a clown.
There are no clowns here.
If you say so. Thanks for your help, buddy.
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Nothing. We are getting to a dead end. But then something occurs to George. There's a room key behind him. Maybe if we can --somehow-- get it, we could get inside Khan's room. Let's try to pick up the key.
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You were trying to steal that key, non?
Non way.
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George doesn't give up easily, so he tries again.
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Hé! Ne touche pas!
Just looking!
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Success deferred. Now we try something different: read the guest book.
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But the name on the book for room twenty two was Moerlin.
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Well, that was something that we already knew. Okay, lets try to get the key in a more tradicional --and legal-- way.
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About the key hanging on the hook over there...
Oui, m’sieur?
Which room is it for?
Number twenty-one.
Is that room taken?
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I’d like to check in to room twenty-one.
That is not possible.
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How come? You said it was vacant!
It is reserved for another guest.
Rats!
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Now that was funny. But that doesn't make less obvious the fact that we are, indeed, stuck in the Hotel. Okay, that's all for now. In the next update we will know if George could get inside of Khan's room... or any room.
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