And that is it. The end of my tale. I complete this final chapter with those twelve little badges before me on my desk. They are somewhat faded now and rusted, too, but I look upon them with fondness, with recollection of the adventures that I had with Hugo Rune.
I have had other adventures since that magical year. Many adventures. I am proud to say that it was I who helped defeat the reincarnation of Pope Alexander the Sixth who, like Count Otto, sought to rule the world. I also played my part in foiling the invasion plans of aliens from the lost planet Ceres. Oh, and it was me that took the Brentford United football team on to glory in the World Cup during the opening years of the twenty-first century. Yes, I have lived a long and adventurous life.
I never saw Hugo Rune again, nor Tobes de Valois, nor Count Otto Black. But I know they are out there somewhere, doing what they do, being what they are.
And the rest of the world goes on, unknowing, blind to the wonder and the magic.
But it is there, everywhere, every day, if you take a moment out from that world of the ordinary just to breathe it in, to dream a little, to feel that magic and that wonder.
And we go on. Myself, Jim Pooley, my bestest friend John Omally, and Norman Hartnell (not to be confused with the other Norman Hartnell, of course) and Neville the part-time barman. We are here, in Brentford, in our world, a world unchanged by time and unchanging.
Perhaps if you are ever down our way, you will call in at The Flying Swan and join us, down a pint of Large and talk a little toot. And take time. To wonder. And to dream. Take time. Farewell.