Status Updates From The Great Mortdecai Moustac...

Nice piece of character-work, heavily Wodehouse-influenced style, lots of lovely literary referential stuff, plot doesn’t quite gel. Let down badly by penultimate chapter; final chapter (for obvious reasons) lacks polish. Shame it wasn’t finished.

"'Then call me a cab!’

‘Awright, Mr Charlie: you’re a taxi.’

‘How d’you mean?’

‘Well, I couldn’t hardly call you ’ansom with that bleeding moustache, could I?’ With that he started to stagger about the room, helpless with guffaws and cannoning into pieces of fragile furniture as antique as his jest." (56/215)

"He took these delicate hints and the nightcap and soon we were toddling up to our respective beds, as sober as a judge. (You will note that I speak of only one judge; i.e. we shared one unit of judicial sobriety between the two of us.)" (49/215)