Touting for authors - I'm hooked

Interesting idea - posting it as writing - but in one way your suggestion slightly worries me, in that it could be seen to suggest that it is not writing where it is now. It feels to me like writing but maybe not - I certainly didn't have it ghosted. At least, I don't think so. Also, I couldn't help but notice on checking back just now to the original forum discussion (which I'd got the name wrong on, by the way - I realise I should have said 'Scouting for authors' - apologies Undelivered - and actually I do see the logic of the original title as I can think of a number of authors, at least in my own immediate circle of acquaintance though not perhaps elsewhere [I'm not really in a position to say of course], who might benefit from, and indeed perhaps enjoy, a bit of Baden Powell and all that he held dear) that someone called Ewan posted a comment on that forum before it was locked up which I can only assume is the same Ewan as your good self, and so I am wondering whether, as you were a co-author on this story in its previous incarnation, whether (phew) you are asking me to do the above-mentioned re-posting in a real way or simply as part of the story which you were of course involved in, albeit knowingly or unkowingly, in its previous location, and that if I were to take your suggestion literally then I would simply be confusing a fictional trope with an intendedly functional illocutionary act, if you get my drift.

Trippy grass, moi? No, sir, I make it an absolute rule to avoid all even mildly uneven pastureland, and only set foot on perfectly manicured and absolutely horizontal lawns with clearly visible and properly tended herbaceous borders. But, now, it occurs to me that maybe I have misinterpreted you and that you are in fact referring to the possibility of my using mind-altering substances. However, if so, my answer to the latter is also, no. Generally, I find that I just have to open my casement window and take a deep breath of air and things go totally psychedelic. Do you know pyrotechnic? - awfully nice chap and so, somehow, caring. I'm not sure that I have fully understood your second paragraph. You seem to be adopting a position and then backing away from it - do you feel that I should be following codes of conduct and respecting bounds of delineation rather more noticeably than thus far or is it your feeling that exploration and experimentation are valid and to be encouraged? Personally, I feel that having set off on my quest for the answer to a few things, if not everything, I am little further advanced and going rapidly backwards. Can you help at all? Do you feel that it might be an idea to make contact with Underworld? Would you be willing to have a go? I have a feeling that if you were to give him a coded message and he gave the correct answer, then we might finally be starting to make some real progress. (Entre nous, the message is: 'The daisies are to be seen in Ekaterinburg before the snows have melted in Ibiza.' If he replies: 'Yes, but only if it is a leap year.' then I think the puzzle might finally be starting to fall into place.) What do you think? But I'm not sure. I'm still quite confused at what Underworld has to do with all of this. You see, I'm thinking that the coded message that was given to me should be used with the person that appeared nice and appeared unexpectedly, because I have this feeling that that is the person who I was supposed to rendezvous with in the gardens of the Alhambra around the time of the Solstice last year, and who, needless to say, never showed. Anyway, I'm giving far too much away. You certainly have a way of getting chaps to spill the beans - what is your secret?

Ah, thank you Umbung for the clarification. I shall hotfoot it immediately back to Granada and see if I can effect the contact that evaded me so utterly on my previous effort. Do give my regards to everyone at the Commission. They may remember me - I appeared unexpectedly on behalf of Dance, Drama and Dithyrhambics to give a series of talks on quantum mechanics - unfortunately at the celebratory dinner for my arrival I mistook the Ambassadress's tiara for a spitoon - dreadfully embarassing. Also, I've received a coded message from BlackJack but can't decipher it - can you help at all? Odd, because last I heard he was rendezvousing with Jack Sparrow to combine forces in the hunt for Lady Eustace's diamonds.

Thank you Pyrotechnic - excellent initiative, if I may say so. I've run your coded message through my Enigma machine, which is now proving a touch enigmatic, Delphic-style, since trying to decode BlackJack's coded message and blowing a few too many valves for my liking in the process - quite a big problem what with the current shortages of top-notch technology here in Blighty. (By the way, undaunted, I've sent BlackJack a request for clarification via semaphore pigeon - I'll keep you posted when I hear back.) But yes, if I have managed to read your messages correctly, despite the Enigma's current problems (I can tell you Hal's singing made a lot more sense than the Enigma does at the moment) but yes, if you could act on your messages in the exact terms that I have received them that would be excellent. I think your decision to send Remote Agent Purple to act in this matter (and not involve Miss Q-Tips at this stage) is well-judged, if I may say so. Mr. X is delighted, by the way, and asked me to thank you personally. (He sort of intimated that there might be a medal, or a presentation box of Smarties, in this for you - so don't let us down!) Your initiative is quite apposite as it happens, as in my own attempts to get to Granada, I made the unfortunate mistake of deciding to go via Terminal 5, and what with all the delays and shenanigans I fell asleep and have now ended up inside a hat box in a warehouse somewhere in the environs of Milan - I may be here for some while. Fortunately I have my laptop and am managing to get a signal. (I know that Blackjack will be pleased about that - I do hope he's all right.)

Shiver, me timbers, Umbung, more coded messages and I sense an ire in the aether. But, to return to the matter, yours previous is baleful news indeed. For such a fine swashbuckler to find themselves hors de combat and so soon ... this is a sombre day indeed. If your news is corroborated then there will be many an old sea dog sick to their bilges down at the Dog and Duck and the Admiral's Folly, I can testify. I remain your loyal and humble servant, sir.