Recorded Sighting #48 – The Dread Pirate Many Beards

“The Dread Pirate Many-Beards Poses with ‘Mutiny’ his Rare Celestial Black Parrot” (1725) – A surprisingly decent camera obscura image captured by piratical dockhand Scurvy Eyed Pete; whilst moored at the infamous pirate stronghold of Crypto-Tortuga, Haiti, The Caribbean Sea.

This dreaded pirate king once plagued the seas all the way from Crypto –Tortuga to Proto- Penzance. He earned himself the moniker of Many Beards, for his filthy habit of braiding the beards of defeated Captains into his own sanguineous stubble. This formed a kind of bizarre and incredibly unhygienic trophy display that was intimidating to both his pirate rivals, and their sea-hardened stomachs.

Despite his flair for gruesome hair, Many- Beards was also a gifted Engineer, Polymath, and Prosthetics Pioneer. Legend has it that he lopped off both of his legs with a Cutlass, and replaced them with Extendo –Peg –Legs of his own ingenious design.

These portable, spring loaded stilts allowed him to reach a height of fifty meters in less than four seconds. With his ship ‘The Bloody Whisker’ at nocturnal anchor in a shallow bay, he would often utilize his prototype peg-legs to stealthily stalk ashore, scaling the walls of governor’s mansions, fortifications and treasury buildings. Once within he would unbar the gates for his marauding gang of malcontents waiting outside.

Many- Beards was also known to frequently traverse the Underseas; a fast flowing underground network of waterways, canals and pirate outposts accessed primarily through a cave beneath Crypto-Tortuga’s main docks. This allowed him to seemingly pop up anywhere, continuously evading capture by his arch-nemesis Rear Admiral Horatio Hornswoggle.

He eventually defeated the ill-fated naval officer at the ‘Skirmish of the Shifting Sands’. At the height of this fierce battle, Many-Beards stood in the centre of a deep pool of quicksand with his Extendo –Peg –Legs at full extension keeping him level with the surface, he then raised his Cutlass towards Hornswoggle before crying “EN GARDE!!!”

This of course issued an irresistible challenge to his already inflamed foe, and lured poor Horatio to a sticky end . . . Allowing the grizzled pirate to finally claim Hornswoggle’s beard as one of his own . . .

Recorded Sighting #49 – The Gargantuan Clothes Moth Crisis

A Gargantuan Clothes Moth Queen Nourishes Her Burgeoning Eggs with Freshly Gathered Hominid Food Sources.” (1982) – This too close for comfort photograph was documented by nudist entomologist Dr Mossy Creepe at Fanal Forest, Madeira Island, Portugal.

The Gargantuan Clothes Moth Crisis began in earnest soon after Dr Mossy Creepe documented this fateful first photograph of a Moth Queen and her nest amongst the Stinkwoods of Fanal Forest.

In the weeks leading up to this, nearby towns had experienced the strange en masse disappearance of laundry from their clothes lines. Things escalated when members of the public started to appear at local police stations with badly chewed attire. These victims fervidly yammered on about being attacked by something which had flapped at them with its great white wings, while gnawing on their flavoursome fashion choices.

Before long missing persons reports proliferated in the area, as the Moths had grown large enough to carry away adult humans, along with their tasty tailoring.

Interestingly Dr Creepe had been successful in tracking the Moths where other scientists had failed, due in part to his fanatical commitment to a naturist lifestyle. Other entomologists had previously entered the forest in their delicious lab coats, but had fallen prey to the resultant feeding frenzies.

Over the course of several years the crisis expanded across the globe with swarms of Moths descending on major cities in every continent, resulting quite literally in naked panic.

During this time nobody dared venture outdoors without first donning a special jacket festooned in high strength moth balls; a practice which became known as “Christmas Treeing”.

The crisis was finally brought under control when global government’s co-ordinated, building gigantic night time fires near all major Moth nests.

If there was one thing more irresistible to a Gargantuan Clothes Moth than an appetizing anorak, it was the dance of a midnight flame. So it was in the end, unable to shirk this fatal attraction, these mega Moths flew to their fiery extinction.

Recorded Sighting #50 – The Ravenous Pit of Musical Despair

“Some Local Ladies Dispose of a Crestfallen Performer in the Pit of Musical Despair after his Unsolicited Midnight Ghetto Blaster Serenade” (1989) – Photograph taken from the very edge of the pit by set designer and champion spaghetti untangler Giovanni Capuleti, below the Verona Arena Opera House, Verona, Italy.

The Verona Arena is ancient, its construction dating back to the Roman Empire; but the catacombs and Ravenous Pit which are nestled in the foundations below it have existed since time immemorial. The Pit’s yawning maw frequently shrieks, and chitters, often stuttering into sonorous wonderful harmonies that impossibly seem to contain thousands of voices originating from a single source.

Eminent monster musicologist Furio Iglesias has theorized that this pit has stood for innumerable eons as a sacrificial site to the primordial gods of music. He says that the thousands of voices we hear ringing in awesome choral harmony are those of musicians which have been offered as ritual sustenance down through the countless ages.

During the late eighties and early nineties the function of the pit changed somewhat. Verona, a City long associated with tragedy and romance, found itself swept up in a tsunami of late night ghetto blaster serenades which were inspired by popular Hollywood movies of the time. One couldn't take a relaxing late night stroll down a single street in the City during this time, at least not without tripping over a never ending procession of love-struck warblers and their obnoxious boom boxes.

Sleep was being missed, tensions were fraying and the City of Verona was on edge. At first citizens took to their balconies to shout words of extreme discouragement and eventually phrases of an intensely insulting nature, in an effort quieten these would be Romeos.

When it became clear that Verona’s population of crooning Casanovas were going undeterred, more extreme measures were implemented by the City Council. The penalty for Serenading after 6pm it was decided would be obligatory sacrifice to the Ravenous Pit of Musical Despair.

These days Verona is a restful City, peaceful, well slept and relaxed. The Ravenous Pit is satisfied too, nourished now by a steady stream of ex-participants shipped in from reality T.V song contests.

Recorded Sighting #51 – A Disinterested Alien Battleship Orbits Mars

“An Alien Battleship Hangs in Orbit around Mars, Whilst Showing Little Interest in Invading Earth” (1998) – Image captured with the Trubble Space Telescope by top notch astrophysicist and part-time unicycle acrobat Dr Englebert Snoot; in Mars-Synchronous Orbit, Sol System, Space.

The population of Earth, fed for many years on a steady diet of rollicking summer blockbusters, pulp-science fiction novels, and the tall tales of abductions by little green men that are peddled by inebriated hitchhikers; had been primed to expect the event of an alien invasion.

So when the day finally arrived and this gigantic Alien Battleship dropped out of hyperspace off the shoulder of Mars, the world gasped in awe and made its dire preparations.

Streams of nuclear missile launch codes were frantically barked into serious red telephones with dramatic intensity, innumerable fighter jets whooshed skywards with heroic purpose, and network news stations ran constant coverage, suddenly cram-packed with newly appointed experts in fields that no one had heard of before.

The good people of Earth hunkered down and waited for what was to come with a mixture of trembling terror, ecstatic excitement, and nail gnawing anxiety. In short it was a really big deal . . .

. . .But then, many uneventful days, weeks and months passed by and this original sense of expectation gave way to a feeling of listless disenchanment. Utilizing the Earths most sophisticated communications technology, attempts at every conceivable form of contact were made.

Then seemingly out of the blue, a signal was finally detected.

In a very short message the Alien leader pronounced with tones of frustration and mild indifference, “Earthlings!!! Please stop incessantly calling! The fact is that we simply prefer to holiday on Mars!”

That’s when the true horror set in! The aliens would rather hike among Mars blasted red dunes, and take alien selfies at Olympus Mons. They just weren’t really that interested in Earth!

Intense pangs of jealousy ran rampant across the international tourism industry, with rabid travel agents foaming at the lips while repeatedly asking one another "What does Mars have that we don't????", "What does Mars have that we don't!!!!"

Deep feelings of churning consternation and potent planetary insecurity actually inspired many countries to launch missiles packed to the gills with travel brochures, and even photographs of their most incredible beauty spots.

Military defences were dropped to tempt an invasion; and specialised alien friendly advertising campaigns were beamed up into the night time skies.

But all of this was to no avail.

The aliens finished their vacation and left without so much as a quick battle, or a goodbye.

The disappointment was simply devastating. . .

Recorded Sighting #52 – The Calamity Dancer

“The Calamity Dancer Decimates the Sleepy Town of Giggleswick with his Devastating Dance Moves” (1977) - Carefully choreographed photography by horrified local lollipop woman and practical joke enthusiast, Mabel Schnozworth, on a hill overlooking Giggleswick, North Yorkshire, U.K.

Sven Groovitson was born to boogie, beginning his life with a fully formed mullet and killer dance moves. This was no coincidence for he was the son of the one and only Benny Groovitson, and heir to a long bloodline of Swedish Boogie Knights.

The Boogie Knights are an age old monastic order that have perfectly mastered the use of their disco dance moves to fight crime. They did this hundreds of years before disco was even cool.

Raised in this tradition, young Sven was trained to only use his dance moves for good; and by all accounts he took his role very seriously; eventually growing to shoulder the awesome responsibility that is Boogie Knighthood with enthusiasm and honour.

He spent his early twenties be-bopping bank robbers into submission, doing the hustle on big-time hustlers, moonwalking murderers directly into jail, and generally saving the world with one slick move at a time.

It seemed that Sven had reached for the lasers, and that the dance floor of the future burned brightly for him.

Then tragically his story took a dark twist during a crucial dance battle with nemesis Floki Downbeatson, the vile head of infamous criminal syndicate the Dancing Daggers, also known as STABBA .

In the heat of this deadly dance off, he was forced to don an ancient and evil artefact known as the Devils Disco Pants in order to save the world.

The day was won, but at a terrible cost.

By choosing to wear these blasphemous bell bottoms, Sven had allowed his soul to become fused with the spirits of Dark Disco, and this set in motion an irreversible transformation, causing him to become the monstrous Calamity Dancer, an embodiment of everything he had hated.

Thus began a transcontinental dance of destruction which lay waste to ninety percent of the world’s finest dancehalls, nightclubs and discotheques. With their temples to dance in ruin, the Boogie Knights were forced to face off against their wayward disciple, so to prevent disco from being wiped from the Earth.

During a furious disco battle too incredible to describe here, a last fatal shape was thrown. With the Calamity Dancer struck down by his former comrades, Sven’s soul was finally released to join the other Boogie Knights in the fabled kingdom of Dancehalla.

Recorded Sighting #53 – Shameless Fiendly

“World Renowned Monster Poet and Noble Beast Prize Laureate Shameless Fiendly Poses for a Portrait upon Receiving the Award” (1995) – Photograph snapped by official ceremonial photographer and compulsive sand castle knocker Priscilla Flugelhorn, at the Noble Beast Centre, Oslo, Norway.

Shameless Fiendly was a literary giant standing at a sturdy nine meters tall and three meters wide. Although most details of his origins remain a deep mystery, we do know that the imposing wordsmith was originally fashioned several hundred years ago by an unknown paper master.

Whoever this prodigy of parchment was, they somehow created an amazing form of animated papyrus that sprung to life with letters, numerals and symbols scrolling along his face whenever Shameless would speak or write.

This effect was almost hypnotic, a quality that was amplified by the monster's own ability to craft metaphors so potent that those who heard them would fall into a trance-like state, ready to do his bidding. Fiendly used these powers during his younger, darker days in an attempt to plot some kind of literary doomsday device that would allow him to dominate human society.

During those sinister years he spent more time occupying global law enforcement’s most wanted lists, than bookshelves, libraries or school examination sheets.

Then a fateful incident occurred that was to change Fiendly forever.

The police had finally hunted him down as he was raiding supplies to complete the last phase of his nefarious plan. Fearing a harsh sentence he desperately attempted to flee through a nearby paper manufacturing plant.

Dashing along a rickety catwalk, with shoelaces unravelling, and his words finally failing him; he tripped over the edge, falling directly into the mouth of an industrial paper shredder.

His life was about to be pulped before his very eyes.

This but for the grace of a child, the plant manager’s daughter Sylvia, who had witnessed Fiendly’s fall. Quick thinking, she managed to jam the machine's gears with her favourite children’s book, in the process selflessly sacrificing her most treasured of tomes.

Shameless was saved, and as a beast for whom stories held such meaning he was deeply moved, vowing from that day to use his wondrous way with words to improve Monster –Human relations.

Recorded Sighting #54 – A Window to Some Other Earth

“Soviet Scientists View the Menacing Blammo-Zon Prime Space Station through an Interdimensional Window to Some Other Earth” (1957) - Classified photo-documentation carried out by esteemed chief scientist and inveterate belly button hair twirler Dr Alexi Marx, at a secret operations bunker beneath Baikonur Cosmodrome, The Baikonur Steppe, U.S.S.R, (Now Kazakhstan).

During these heady days of experimental physics, many secretive projects were carried out around the globe, as various countries vied for strategic advantages by pushing the limits of human weaponry, knowledge, and perceptions of reality.

One such Soviet project located in a secret bunker below Baikonur Cosmodrome managed to manipulate space-time, opening an interdimensional window to Some Other Earth. This allowed its operators gain an orbital view of a parallel global reality, and they were horrified with what they witnessed.

In this alternate reality, the human race had become totally subjugated by an orbital disenchantment centre. The Blammo-Zon Prime Space Station was a grotesque monolith to consumerism on a cosmic scale, floating above the alternate Earth, polluting the very heavens with its bourgeois presence.

Making matters worse it was fully automated, staffed entirely by soulless robots who had vented their proletariat counterparts into the inky aether many moons ago. Now it just hung there in the sky, extracting the last resources from a dying earth below, while blasting the surface with unwanted bread makers, curling irons, phone cases and miscellaneous bric-a-brac.

The mere existence of such rampant capitalism, in any time, any space, or any dimension, deeply troubled the sensibilities of the Soviet state. In response, government ministers ordered the project to be terminated immediately, all records to be sealed, and all project participants to remain silent on pain of death.

Given current events on our own planet, there have been certain rumblings in secretive corners, the old guard have started to wonder aloud again about the true nature of the Window . . . Had this device indeed been a Portal to Some Other Earth? . . . Or was it instead a Window to our very own future?

Recorded Sighting #55 – Dog Ross

“Dog Ross Paints a Reflection of his True Nature while Watching the World Burn.” (2020) – Risky photograph documented during an apocalyptic bushfire season by fearless fire fighter and intentionally obvious nose picker, Major Billabong Trebuchet, Queensland, Australia.

Quickly! I implore you! Avert your gaze from those alluring puppy dog eyes!

Although this is just a photograph, do not allow yourself for a moment to become beguiled by the vicious beast that is before you. For beneath this cuddly exterior lies the black hearted, bile spewing being that is Dog Ross, known as the original hound of hell, guardian of the netherworld, and purveyor of fine instructional painting videos.

Predator, occultist, man-eater, kidnapper, arsonist; A practiced master of deception, this nefarious cur would often lull passing humans into a false sense of security with promises of light petting, paintings, happy little trees and plein air perfection.

Waiting for an enraptured audience to become engrossed in the joy of painting, this manipulative mutt would often bide his time, sharpening his canines, searching for his opportunity. Then seizing on a vulnerable moment, this dastardly dog of doom would pounce from behind a cheeky little bush, striking suddenly, mercilessly and with incredible force.

Monsters as you well know are motivated by many things, such as hunger, greed, the enslavement of all humanity, a desire for world domination, and the like.

Dog Ross was driven by the twin flames of creativity and destruction, which found their expression in both the production of majestic “alla prima” landscape paintings, and an insatiable hunger to inflict incalculable levels of cruelty on the world at large.

His savagery had a sort of meaningless, aimless, sterility to it, which rendered it all the more devastating; this ruinous pooch simply wanted to watch the world burn.

Thankfully Dog Ross is off the streets. Lured into a trap with promises of an undefended crafts circle by agents of the Monster Containment Bureau, and so poetic justice was finally served, with this hell hound incarcerated in a maximum security dog pound.

Recorded Sighting #56 – The Critical Ghostees

“Mr.Manuel Burnhout Wilts to Almost Nothing on a Public Bench, During an Intense Haunting by the Critical Ghostees” (1929) - Moment of deep personal torment documented without permission, by amateur ghost hunter and wildly enthusiastic baked bean slurper, Dr.Sullivan Pook, on Silliman Street, San Francisco, U.S.A.

Unfortunately at one time or another in our lives most of us will have a horribly corrosive encounter with the dire spectres of Yew and Yuu, also known as the Critical Ghostees.

These pernicious poltergeists are a dastardly team indeed, making their way about the world with intention and purpose, blighting the poor minds and hearts of those unfortunate enough to cross their paths.

Using a unique type of Ghostly telepathy these deleterious spooks have the horrifying ability to divine and amplify even the most confident and accomplished person’s doubts, insecurities and embarrassing memories.

Energized by their foul findings these cretinous phantasms then take great joy in hanging about their victims heads, ruminating, fulminating and repeating long held shames, criticisms and fears, pouring a potent and personalized poison into the ears of their prey.

Incredibly skilled at mimicry and impersonation, Yew and Yuu often take turns berating their emotionally disintegrating victims in the mocking tones of difficult people from the individual’s own past. Yet, the Ghostees most savoured and destructive technique is to deliver crushing condemnations in the sufferer’s own voice; performing this in such a way that it is impossible for their target to tell their own thoughts apart from the wearisome words of the Critical Ghostees.

The theory goes that Yew and Yuu are shame eaters. Finding this awful emotion absolutely delectable to their Ghostly palates, they seek out and lock onto unsuspecting members of the public, ramping up shame to unbelievable heights, so that they can feed off this foul feeling for their own nourishment.

Leaving their victims drained, with their self-esteem in absolute tatters.

Please note that the Critical Ghostees are still at large.

So if you feel a horrible haunting coming on, it’s important to please remember that at your core you are a good person; don’t feed these spiteful wraiths or give them the satisfaction, they will eventually go away on their own.

Recorded Sighting #57– The Aquatic Attacks

“A Jury-Rigged Fish Tank Trundles Ashore Marking the Beginning of the Aquatic Attacks” (2006) – Seaside snapshot taken by disgruntled driftwood sculptor Akissi Kouassi, Resto Beach, San Pedro, Côte d'Ivoire.

During our halcyon days we landlubbers would gaze out across the glistening sapphire seas and feel a great sense of calm, the expansive horizons beckoning our imaginations towards the pleasures of unknown shores. Distracted by these glistening surface details, we went blissfully ignorant of the impact of our actions. Beneath the crystalline veneer a furious storm was brewing.

Sea life had been literally growing sick of our rubbish for many years, a steady rain of plastic cups, and industrial effluent was poisoning the undersea environment. Not to mention the roving bands of fishermen and their greedy nets which seemed to encroach further into the fish kingdom with each passing day.

Unifying under the command of the tempestuous Baron Barracuda, Sea Kind had finally had enough, and resolved to rise up like a vanquishing wave to cleanse the world of Drylanders forever.

Industrious Octopus technicians swung into action, using their many powerful arms to fashion gruesome weapons of war from the mountains of human refuse lining the seabed; turning our own discarded resources against us.

Co-ordinated war bands of Whales would disrupt human supply lines by capsizing cargo ships; and pods of Dolphin berserkers would dive onto the decks of fishing boats whistling and clicking wildly, laying waste to as many crew as they could get their fins on.

The fearsome Fish Tank in this photograph was only the vanguard of a sustained invasion; soon the dreaded Barracuda Battalions would emerge across every coastline in the world. These briny assailants progressed steadily inland, destroying dams and renewable energy sources to accelerate the melting of the polar ice caps. An advance team even installed humongous bilge pumps in the Great Lakes to speed up the rise in sea levels.

Their master plan was to flood the world and rule it all.

Having had extensive experience in warring amongst ourselves, Drylander forces eventually grasped the upper hand, pushing these fishy foes back into the sea.

Yet some suggest that when brute force failed them, Baron Barracuda simply changed tactics; instead investing vast sums of his undersea gold in propping up the oil industry, pro- coal politicians, and funding climate change denial campaigns.

All we know is that it’s calm out there, for now. . .

Recorded Sighting #58 – Professor Gnarls Sharwin

“Illustrious Naturalist and Near-Immortal Monkey Professor Gnarls Sharwin Pictured Writing His Final Memoirs” (1880) – Daguerreotype captured by reluctant Man-Servant and primo Banana-Split preparation specialist Philippe Urface, Down House, Orpington, U.K

It’s rather a common misconception that evolution is a theory, whereas in reality it was originally documented as a fact in the memoirs of one Professor Gnarls Sharwin.

This near- immortal monkey, was the actual missing link in our simian heritage, and being thousands upon thousands of years old, he had witnessed first-hand our descent from the trees.

While watching from the wilds he carefully observed the competition for dominance between our Neanderthal and Homosapien ancestry; and spied the advantageous biological adaptations which emerged over time.

This monkey mastermind sustained and refreshed his body, season upon season by drinking of a mysterious elixir, attaining a longevity spanning innumerable epochs. All would be well while he maintained a supply of this potion of perpetuity.

Of course over a long enough timescale, something is eventually bound to go wrong. For poor Gnarls this occurred when his human cousins enthusiastically hunted a rare Madagascan Vomiting Beetle to extinction, falsely believing it’s sickly secretions to be a powerful fertility aid.

While this elusive insect’s vomitus would prove impotent in that regard, it was actually the vital ingredient in Professor Sharwin’s elixir of life extension. Their fates biologically intertwined, from the moment of the Vomiting Beetle’s final demise, Gnarls began to terminally age.

As a keen biologist and the world’s most experienced observer of nature, he set out in hope aboard his ship the HMS Spiegel. He was on a last desperate mission to catalogue new life forms, and in so doing, to find a replacement alchemical ingredient.

As he navigated the globe during this final expedition, he kept detailed journals that would vastly expand our knowledge of nature. Unfortunately for poor Gnarls, within all of his incredible discoveries, he never found a viable substitute for that singular upchucking insect.

Upon his defeated return, Gnarls turned his attention to organising his memoirs, and with new found respect for the invaluable uniqueness of life; he bequeathed his entire estate to the conservation of other rare monsters, animals and insects.

Recorded Sighting #59 – The Montevideo Eruption

“The International Telenovela Archives Explode in a Melodramatic Eruption of Televisual Energy” (1992) – Moment of television history captured by volcanologist and avid rubber ducky racer Alberico Rodriguez at the Montevideo Archival Site, Montevideo, Uruguay.

While it existed the Montevideo International Telenovela Archives represented the most concentrated point of melodrama on the planet. The density of dramatization at the archival site had the effect of distorting reality for the population of Montevideo City and its surrounding area. In an insightful survey carried out by the Uruguayan Government the year before the explosion, analysts charted a massive increase in bizarre storylines occurring across the population.

For instance it was found that citizens living in this locality were five hundred percent more likely to be born with an evil twin, or twenty seven percent more likely to have their spouse remarry while they were in a coma. All survey respondents also reported having the unusual experience of waking up and feeling like the entire last season of their life was just a dream.

Nobody understands what caused the actual explosion, although television engineers and physicists have theorized that the condensation of melodramatic energy at a singular point created a runaway chain reaction. The eruption intensified the emergence of strange story lines one thousand fold as the city below descended into badly acted chaos.

Well known Telenovela characters were projected into real life by the energy of the blast and wandered confused amongst the good people of the city, desperately seeking a cheesy plotline to become part of. Most of these fictional characters were rounded up by a quick thinking containment protocol. Others escaped capture and disappeared into the crowd, possibly to return and cause trouble in some later episode.

Recorded Sighting #60 – The Brighton Titan

“The Brighton Titan Wanders Close to Shore Ruining an Otherwise Lovely Day at the Beach” (1962) – Stinky camera work by disgruntled sun bather Celia Booth on Madeira Drive, Brighton Beach, U.K

This colossal Cyclops, also known as the Blighty of Brighty would intermittently appear off shore at the once popular Brighton pleasure beach. Nobody knew exactly where this sentient refuse dump would arrive from, but they couldn’t mistake the pungent aroma of garbage and rotten bananas that followed with it.

As if this wasn’t off putting enough, the terrible thing would usually arrive wielding a six ton sardine sandwich, causing even the most committed beach goer to evacuate both the seaside and their stomachs. The Blighty would then awkwardly stand out to sea, peering down at the rapidly emptying resort with one stink eye, leaving everyone unclear in its wants or desires.

To make matters worse the scent of this fetid fiend would draw in hundreds of flocks of salivating Seagulls. These droves of heckling harriers created more problems than the Cyclops itself, swooping down out of the clouds claiming portion after portion of cod and chips as their own.

Not to mention the increasingly costly clean-up operation to repeatedly rid the town of a build-up of avian excrement; or the uncomfortable expense of providing the local population with custom smell cancelling nose-plugs.

After an initial burst of curiosity in the Cyclops, tourism took a nose dive as crowds realised the truly unpleasant nature of the situation. Faced with falling attendance and spiralling costs the City Council first shuttered the pier, then the beach, and eventually surrendered the City; migrating the citizens of Brighton safely inland.

New Brighton, as it’s called, is a place filled with flower beds and spicy food stalls. It is also home to a complex and therapeutic botanical garden. All intentional initiatives to aid in the recovery of the populations beleaguered sense of smell.

Recorded Sighting #61 – The Gorse Whisperers

“Garda Detective Paddy Mc Murphy Becomes Lost Forever in a Maze of Thorny Tangled Undergrowth” (1977) – Last sighting of the ill fortuned detective captured by curious aristocrat and self-confessed nasty person Lady Cruella Spatz, The Burren, County Clare, Ireland.

The Gorse Whisperers are an ancient form of Faerie folk who have occupied the hollows, undergrowth and secret spaces of the Burren ever since Ireland first rose from the sea. They have gone by many names over their long history, known at different times as the Keepers of the Green Labyrinth, Sirens of the Undergrowth, or simply as Bush Banshees.

Delighting in trickery and mischief, they have been known to use their powers to shape the wind as it moves through nearby plants, rocks and trees; the resulting reverberations of air forming an intoxicating melody to beguile wanderers off the beaten path and into the thorny brambles.

No one knows where these mesmerized men and women disappear too; they just seem to vanish into the landscape, and searches conducted even moments later never turn up a trace.

Many folklorists postulate that the missing people pass through a portal to the Faerie World where they live on, some think that they become lost in the Green Labyrinth doomed to wander eternally through a field of never ending bracken, and others have darker more sinister theories still.

It was a recent spate of these missing person’s incidents which had led Detective Mc Murphy to action. With many years on the force under his belt he was a hardened sceptic, refusing to wear the recommended protective earplugs upon entering the Burren.

This photograph is the last time he was spied by human eyes, firing his pistol wildly in the air to signal for help, before being swallowed up by the surrounding Gorse forever.

Recorded Sighting #62 – The Invisibull Incident

“A Pair of Aggressive Invisibulls Wreak Unseen Havoc during the Annual Running of the Bulls” (1980) – Image painstakingly retouched to make the Invisibulls visible by excessively macho matador Sergio Toro, Pamplona, Spain.

The annual Bull Run in Pamplona has always featured berserk bovines battering the tourists barmy enough to put themselves in horns way. Fortunately for these masochistic participants regular cattle usually come in many colours, all falling within a spectrum of light visible to the human eye.

This was not so with regards to the Invisibulls. To the ruin of many fine pantaloons these stealthy livestock were totally undetectable to the naked eyeball.

These cheeky Cows were originally engineered by sneaky beef farmer and dabbling geneticist Pete Spleets. This entrepreneurial mince maker dealt in a steady trade of black market beef and needed a way to conceal the size of his herd.

By splicing together a careful combination of Cattle and Chameleon cells, Spleets struck on a golden solution for maintaining his underground income. Yet this impressive feat of trickery was only to be the opening act of his success.

Before long, stories of the strange meats of the Invisibull caught the attention of experimental gastronaut Reston Bloomingfall.

With these stealthy steaks becoming a much sought after delicacy at Bloomingfall’s exclusive eateries, the price per pound skyrocketed to eye watering heights; and Spleets became a millionaire overnight.

No one really knows for sure how the Bull Run incident occurred, but some say it was a group of animal rights activists who mixed a pair of these clandestine cows into the Bull Runs regular stock.

Yet the impact on the rear ends of the reckless runners was certain, badly bruising and immediate. In the aftermath there was a flurry of compensation claims, and the events insurance company saw red, refusing point blank to cover any future Bull Runs for fear of a repeated disaster.

In a reactionary attempt to address their insurance company’s safety concerns, the city of Pamplona now holds a high visibility hen run. Still, without the delicious element of danger attendance is poor, and former runners seem to have disappeared into the fray to get their kicks elsewhere.

Recorded Sighting #63 – The Odious Return of Cumberland’s Hand

“The Duke of Cumberland’s Iron Fist plummets from the Sky Moments before the Catastrophic Destruction of Johns Hall” (2021) - Incoming punch documented by local cloud spotter and clumsy magician Gregarious Greg the Great, Birr, County Offaly, Ireland.

The ignoble Archduke Franz Cumberland, vicious oppressor and world famous sausage architect once ruled the township of Birr with an iron fist. Franz was no ordinary member of the landed gentry, and his physical form was not the same as a regular pompous lord.

Instead Cumberland’s cold soul was magically bound by royal enchanter Merlin Vermin within the unforgiving frame of a seventeen foot Iron Golem. An intensely violent man, Franz actually volunteered to have his life essence transferred into this mechanical man masher.

Driven more by his own blood lust, than real loyalty, Cumberland relished the opportunity to crush his majesties opponents underfoot. Known as the Bloody Butcher and the Leviathan of Birr, this steely eyed sentinel tried to grind the spirits of the local people to dust.

Still, they resisted, summoning all of their ingenuity to hatch an underhanded insurrection. They began by hurling insults at the gargantuan Golem, so encouraging its ire, before fleeing to the local castle grounds; leading the furious Franz directly into a trap.

Birr’s most creative minds had repurposed their famous giant telescope, making use of its massive lenses to focus the Sun’s golden rays on a single target area. This created a solar furnace capable of melting down Cumberland’s almost invincible structure.

The deadly Duke was soon reduced to a pile of molten slag, yet his iron fist somehow endured the overwhelming heat. To rid themselves of this last relic of the Dukes despicable reign, the townspeople launched it spaceward atop a steam powered rocket.

And so, for over three hundred years the town lived peace.

That was until the Dukes hand found its way back across the vastness of space, appearing in the skies above Birr, before smashing into Johns Hall.

Disgusted at this last act of vandalism, the town council had the offending appendage locked away in a secret specially constructed vault below the town’s library.

Recorded Sighting #64 – Monster Bounty Hunter Ebeneezer Inkhart

“Monster Bounty Hunter Ebeneezer Inkhart Proudly Poses with his Deadly Arsenal” (1920) – Original photograph taken by doe-eyed shoplifter and bawdy socialite Constance Fairweather, Tangier, Morocco.

This tentacled terror was the bounty hunter from hell, holding a powerful reputation as a most remorseless hunter of men, known to track his pitiable prey to the ends of the earth, without ever missing a mark.

Although Ebeneezer seemed clinical and calculating on the surface, his innards were known to bubble over with a black rancorous ichor. He would often spew up this toxic bile to use as an ink for penning his murderous contracts, and on occasion to obscure his exit from deadly situations.

A cruel-hearted cephalopod, Ebeneezer held no concept of kinship or loyalty. This became abundantly clear once he noticed the pressures of the murder market shifting, so that his beastly brethren had begun to represent a more lucrative form of contracted quarry.

Upon this realization he turned his sights on their horrible heads without delay, callously slaying many of his former colleagues in creaturedom for cold hard cash.

As a result Inkhart was soon exiled from the monster community for crimes against monstrosity.

Yet other secret organisations embraced him deeper into their clandestine circles, capitalizing on his non-existent morality, killer skills, specialist arsenal, and deep knowledge of monster movements to target otherwise unreachable creatures for assassination.

Governmental intelligence agencies and paramilitary organisations co-opted Inkhart for extra-judicial monster killings which fell outside of standard monster containment protocol. These off-book targets were non-feral fiends who posed no direct threat to human life, but who had become politically inconvenient because of their challenges to the status quo.

Ogreish community organisers, mutant monster rights activists, environmentalist ghouls, and even spooky unionizers all fell by Ebeneezer’s merciless tentacles.

In the end this pitiless squid went missing in action while out on one of his many monstercidal missions.

Rumour has it that the monster community had enough of his deadly transgressions, and took matters into their own claws, ambushing him on the job.

Recorded Sighting #66 – Bath-Man

“The Mysterious Masked Vigilante Bath-Man Scrubs Out Murderous Mobster Tony Mascarpone and the Members of his Crew” (1978) – Bath-Time smack down documented by grizzled photographer and back alley rat chaser Barrington Snook, Brooklyn, New York, USA.

Half man, half plumbing, this bubbling jacuzzi of justice vowed to single handedly cleanse the New York City streets of their grimiest crimes, and sure enough soon after he began his soapy crusade the cities criminal record was spotless.

Once the Bath Signal shot up to illuminate the dark night sky, it acted as a warning to all the scruffians in the New York metropolitan area. . . Beware Bath-Man is on the prowl, ready to hand out luxurious latherings of law and order; and fearful of a severe scrubbing, wrong doers rapidly retreated into the shadows, with some actually deciding to clean up their own acts.

Yet, nestled deep within the armpit of the city, a stinking coalition of corruption laid their plans for revenge. Unified by a shared vision, dirty cops and filthy felons banded together to destroy Bath-Man, seeking to foul up the five boroughs, uniting the city once again under their evil empire of dirt.

Despite the overflowing suds of his success, public opinion was severely divided on the subject of this paragon of pipe work. In some quarters he was showered with praise, whilst in others he was seen as a vigilante stain taking matters into his own hands.

Protected by his secret identity, the criminal’s plots never found any purchase, and the city police glad of any assistance declined to investigate the matter too deeply.

For a time, there were whispers that Bath-Man was actually billionaire bleach manufacturer Spruce Blaine, a claim that Blaine Industries has adamantly denied. One thing is for sure, most honest citizens were just glad to know that the Bath-Man was out there somewhere, cleaning the streets of filth.

Recorded Sighting #65 – The Dead Baroness

“The Dead- Baroness and Her Trustee Skeleton Crew Zero in on Their Next Target during a Daring Dogfight” (1918) – Final flight documented by soon to be splattered aviator Captain Dash Hope in the sky above Vimy Ridge, France.

This spookily swift señorita of the skies was known to bedevil the airspace above war torn Europe. She would appear as if from nowhere, diving from the direction of the sun, the chattering of her skeletal teeth in the wind drowning out the rattle of her machine guns.

Claiming no allegiance to any flag, the Baroness of Death was interested only in seeking out the most skilled pilots performing amongst the clouds.

Relishing the opportunity to test her aerial mettle against the world’s most able airmen, she elatedly engaged the enemy aces in battle; both planes becoming locked in a grim fandango of machine gun fire, outrageous immelmann turns, and boisterous barrel rolls.

Yet, the courageous aviators were badly outmatched by their bony opponent, and those morbid marathons of manoeuvrability would only ever end one way; a victory for the Baroness, the lady chalking up another skeleton in her closet.

While she certainly had a penchant for a fair fight, in a pinch she was known to draw alongside her adversaries aircraft, allowing her nimble skeleton crew to board the enemy airplane by hopping onto their wings.

Once aboard these skeletal minions would climb into the cockpit and make short work of their foes first hand, before escaping back along the wing tips as their freshly fallen enemies entered into a terminal dive.

With an undefeated record of over eighty air combat victories by the end of the war, this skybound señorita disappeared into the sunset never to be seen again.