Prof. Lovetone at Tokyo

The mobile phone would not stop calling. He would have rejected the call for sure if he did not have his hands filled with the exquisite chocolate cake prepared with a recipe of a 13th-century witch, which he had accidentally discovered in a dusty volume in Oxford's library of original books.

When he finally answered it after ten minutes, a soft male voice with strange accent was heard from the other side of the line.

• Hello, is this Professor Robert Lovetone?
  --Yes, who is calling?
• Professor Lovetone we urgently need your help.
  -- Who is this? Do you understand it is too late to call for any reason?
• Professor I will ask you for a great favor. I would not call if it was not so critical. Please go to the telephone booth at the near-by block and call the number 090-YOUR-BABY-IS-WAITING.
  --What kind of joke is this?
  -Professor, please do as I beg you and I will explain everything. By the way have you seen the movie “MATRIX”?
  --No!
• Any of the “Star Trek” movies?
  --No, no no…!
  -Anyway, you will soon understand what I mean. Please hurry up Sir!

The guy wouldn’t let him have a peaceful night, so he put on his fustian robe and his slippers and walked downstairs to make the favor of the mad man.

He rushed into the telephone booth and uncomfortably he called the phone number-word he was told. A voice was heard...
-Hello…
--Lovetone… Robert Lovetone
-Engage…. Martini

He felt the sky falling upon his head, a tunnel sucking him, listening to singing birds, and he was stunned. He rolled like going down a water slide, into a bright tunnel.

It did not last more than 2 minutes. He found himself standing in a room with an enormous window with view of the lights of the city. Neon labels everywhere, huge screens and thousands of people crossing the streets. He could not believe it. He was probably dreaming. He was in Tokyo.

Applauses behind him. He turned and saw (completely fleetingly) a very short Japanese with a huge smile and a white robe to applaud incessantly. But his gaze was stuck on the 2-meter-height French-Japanese girl that was standing beside the Short-one. Airy, smiling with keen eyesight – she was probably looking at the cosmetics advertisement on the giant screen just outside the window. He had forgotten that he was a visitor, wearing his robe and his slippers.

The Short-one spoke.
-Please take a seat Professor. My name is Ti-ny-smi. This is Miss Wha-tagala-reyou. I understand your surprise, but I will briefly explain how you got here. We transported you through a space-time tunnel between London-Tokyo. You may have heard of so-called wormholes.
--What are you talking about? Am I dreaming?

• No sir, you are not dreaming. Punch yourself to confirm it. The situation here is critical and we need to act immediately, said Miss Wha-tagala-reyou.
  --Anyway, will you finally tell me what you want me to do?
  -Professor we addressed you because we know about you. Naked murdered men, symbols and quizzes. Although the situation we confront is a little bit different we still believe you could help us.
  -- What do you mean? Another murder?
  -Yes, but this time he is almost naked.

They had already begun walking. They turned left and left again towards an open door. And there they saw it (he for the first time, the other two once again).

He was lying on the floor at a side position. One leg stretched and the other bent forward. His arms stretched upwards as if celebrating something. His mouth open like shouting and one eye closed as if he wanted to make a signal to someone. In front of his mouth written on the carpet with crayon color was the word "Goooooal". But the strangest thing was that he was dressed in a ... string!

Wha-tagala-reyou said.
-He was not over 70. He was strange but he was a good man. I liked him talking to me about his new theories. Some tears rolled down her rosy Japanese cheeks.

-- It is obvious he was strange, Robert thought.-- What is the cause of his death?

• He was straggled, said Ti-ny-smi.
  -- With what?
  -Here comes the great mystery. Professor Lovetone, have you ever heard of the String Theory? Our research center is working on it for quite some years.
  --I supposed so, that you work on it. I wonder, do all staff in here wear these things? Well, I do know Mr. Ti-ny. It was mentioned to me by a Greek friend some years ago. The main conclusion of the theory is the incompatibility of what women wearing them say and the use of the clothing seen through the prism of aesthetics, utility and sensuality.

Wha-tagala-reyou smiled slightly but Ti-ny-smi almost died with what he heard.

• Professor we are talking for a serious field of research. Please do not joke. String theory in brief advocates that the smallest units of our universe are vibrating strings and each type of vibration appears as a different particle in nature.

-- I wonder which particle comes from rumba or samba, thought genius Robert!

• Our Center's scientists have accomplished miracles with these strings, which are not even observable. Professor, we have succeeded in uniting many of them, by applying electrodynamic turbulence while in a state of quantum superposition.

--What does that mean dear Ti-ny ?

• Braids. Yeah, you have heard correctly, braids made of strings! With such a braid our colleague was strangled. We suspected that with the string he wore he was giving us a hint, but in any case the marks on his throat showed it clearly. But let me go on about the strings. Strands of string are a well-kept top secret, and this is because they can become a gravity weapon. In this united/unified form they act like strings that we suspect exist in the universe from its birth time. They create huge gravitational waves that distort space-time. Such a braid could wipe out a whole city. The issue is that such a braid is missing...

Lovetone lifted his eyebrow, looked at Wha-tagala-reyou (from top to bottom - with some stops in the middle), thought that again nothing would happen between him and this beautiful woman (as with all other women he had met in his previous adventures), he tried to get inspired and finally said.
-- I have found the solution. You must beam me to Rome.
-But what has Rome to do with our case?

He did not tell them that he was hungry and he recalled the pasta he had eaten during his last visit to Rome, when he saved the Vatican City.

-- I'll explain straight away. Maybe it sounds crazy but it's the most likely(!) explanation. How many "O" has the "Goal" written in front of your colleague's mouth? Five right? If you notice it is not exactly "O" but each of it has painted five petals around it. The secret symbol of Aphrodite is the rose with five petals.
-- What is the name of Aphrodite in Latin? Venus, right? And yet your colleague wanted to make sure that we understand what he wanted to say. Do you see the position he has taken as a football (soccer) player at the moment of shooting for the goal? Which footballer was wearing strings? Beckham! What is the name of his wife? Victoria! And now the revelation... Wha-tagala-reyou could you please check the label of the string he wears? I bet it is Venus Victoria.

Wha-tagala-reyou stretched the string and they all saw the label. They opened their mouths with astonishment. (Her teeth were not straight but still she was Wha-tagalis-she)
My Lady and Gentleman (half) please notice the orientation of his body. From West to East, or by their initials WE or we could also say Witches of Eastweek.

These were Venus enthusiasts and supposed to have been burned some hundrents years ago. It is also said that their braids were cut off before they were put on fire. What a coincidence, don't you think? This sect are now coming back to destroy those who burned their ancestors. The braids of strings in their hands are the most deadly weapon.

The short Japanese was desperate; he put his hand on his forehead, he hugged the French-Japanese gal from her waist and made the best proposal of the last 100 lines..... "Let's go for pizza," he said.

.....................................ΤΟ ΒΕ DISCONTINUED