A Fresh Start

Norway doesn’t get a huge amount of coverage on British radio and television. A great shame, since as we’ve seen from Em’s pictures, it really is a beautiful country.

What a coincidence then that as I opened up the first email from the man himself while on his sojourn in the fjorded place, a voice on the tellybox behind me said:

I did the bit called Norway. I got an award for it.

10 Em³alicious points to the first person who names the film and character who uttered these immortal (and terribly serendipitous) words.

Now then, on to business. I feel horribly guilty that I’ve not posted before now. I meant to. Really. I had such plans! But Real Life ™ intervened and I’ve just realised that himself is back on Sunday already so I’d best get my skates on.

So I got to wondering. What is our fearless leader really doing in Norway? I googled for answers. Oh-oh. Always a risk. Because once you start googling for something so vague it’s all too easy to slide down the slippery slope that is the Google-light Zone. The what? It’s a sort of Twilight Zone that you enter at your peril. You cautiously type a word into that innocuous looking little box and suddenly you wake to realise that four hours have gone by, the dishes remain unwashed in the sink, the dog has broken into the fridge and gotten her own supper and that documentary you really wanted to see has been and gone, untaped and unwatched.

Anyway, what do we find when we google for Norway? First up is the CIA Factbook entry:

About two-thirds mountains; some 50,000 islands off its much indented coastline; strategic location adjacent to sea lanes and air routes in North Atlantic; one of most rugged and longest coastlines in the world.

Looks like Bergen is smack bang in the middle of those multitudinous islands.

Then we find another blogger who loves Norway. Wonder if Em has also been nibbling the Chili Nøtters. Oh dear, that sounds like a euphemism.

But back to my original point. Which was… um… right. Oh, I know! What is Em really up to in Norway. Well I’ve been studying his photographs rather closely and I think the clues are there.

The first hint that something is amiss is Em’s abrupt exit from the hotel:

“I had to let myself out as I was the first one about. I hope I didn’t set off any alarms.

Followed by this shot of an elderly couple looking terrified.

Then we’re told that “the tour bus” takes our man to deepest lake in Europe which the police are clearly dragging for bodies.

With an ever increasing sense of foreboding we continue to the next shots and soon we have our answer, I believe. He has taken a chainsaw to the bodies, chopped them up into tiny pieces and has deposited each and every shred of evidence in the wake of the ferry. And gleefully reports that even that evidence won’t be in the water for long. And then he tries to implicate another man in his evil deeds and… oh no! What has he done to the police divers dragging the lake?

I turn to you, my fellow Emalites : what should we with the evidence?