Jonathan Downes sat in his chair, a glass of Black Treacle Grott in his hand, and faced the Investigation Team of the CFZ.
There were three of them, all aged 11.
They were fully equipped. Cyril had his shrimping net, Cosmo had a popgun only the cork was lost and Eliza had a bottle of ginger beer.
"There is a cryptid I want you to track down," said Jon, sipping languidly at his glass. "It is the catt."
"I say," protested Cyril, "the cat isn't a cryptid."
"Foolish youth," said Jon, taking a swig from a bottle of Black Treacle Grott he kept beneath a cushion. "I did not say a cat, I said a catt, with two t's."
"Golly," said Cosmo. "What does that look like?"
"It looks a bit like a cat," said Jon, "only it has no middle. It has a head and forepaws, then there is a space and then it has a tail and rear paws."
"That's jolly strange," said Eliza.
"How shall we recognise it," wondered Cyril.
"Where should we look for it?" enquired Cosmo.
"Be off! Trouble me not with trifling questions," said Jon, flinging the bottle of Black Treacle Grott at his head.
Our doughty band set off for Peru in a boat. Why Peru? Why not? They found rounding Cape Horn a bit of a trial, especially as the boat had a hole in it. Then they arrived at Peru, land of the Gloomy Parrot..
"Good morrow," greeted this joyless fowl. "Isn't life a pain?"
"Can you tell us where to find the Catt?" enquired Eliza, taking a swig of ginger beer. (There wasn't much left.)
"As far away as it can get," said the Gloomy Parrot. "I believe it has got a job with the Royal Bank of Scotland."
What will our heroes do now? Find out in the next thrilling episode.