Doogan here and I’m lucky to be alive- after a night of determined investigation in no less than five of China Station’s more liberal entertainment establishments.
The drone of powerful engines awakened this reporter from his gentle, gutter-side slumber outside of Lady Edna Beardsley’s famed Tropicana/Orient nightclub. With my finely tuned newsman’s eye for detail, it was apparent immediately that all activity on this normally hectic street had come to a precipitous halt and that locals and foreigners alike were craning their necks to the sky in an attempt to spot the origin of the noise.
As my blurred vision strained to focus I puzzled at the unusual silver tone of the morning sky but within seconds I realized that what we were witnessing was indeed the low passing of a titanic air-ship.
Within moments this leviathan of the sky had moved off over to the foreign quarter of the city and as people began conversing excitedly there was a huge explosion which shook the very ground on which I lay. Within seconds a plume of black smoke began to rise from somewhere within the foreign legations.
I am writing this dispatch from my room and as soon as I shake this pounding headache, I intend to delve into this singular event. It is entirely possible that whatever violent disaster has occurred, it could be somehow linked to the mysterious fate of missing American Scientist, Dr. Raullo Ortega, inventor of the cosmic beam annihilator.
Until next time, turn the lights off Ma and let the cat out, this is Doogan Signing off.