"Good afternoon gentlemen. First off, We'd like to thank this board for taking the time to hear our proposal." My brother Milo announced as the both of us were practicing our museum board proposal. Wait, where are my manners? Sorry about that. My name is Madeleine Heidi Thatch and I'm 11 years old.
"Now, we've all heard of the legend of Atlantis. A continent somewhere in the mid-Atlantic that was home to an advanced civilization possessing technology far beyond our own, that, according to our friend Plato here was suddenly struck by some cataclysmic event that sank it beneath the sea." Milo continued.
He handed me a stack of picture cards which I carefully flipped through.
"Now, some of you may ask, why Atlantis? It's just a myth, isn't it? Pure fantasy." I explained. "Well, that is where you'd be wrong, gentlemen. 10,000 years before the Egyptians built the pyramids, Atlantis had electricity, advanced medicine, even the power of flight."
"Impossible, you say? Well, no. No, not for them." Milo took over. "Numerous ancient cultures all over the globe agree that Atlantis possessed a power source of some kind, more powerful than steam, than coal. More powerful than our modern internal combustion engines." I recited. "Gentlemen, we propose that we find Atlantis, find that source and bring it back to the surface."
"Now, this is a page from an illuminated text that describes a book called the Shepherd's Journal, said to have been a first-hand account of Atlantis and its exact whereabouts." Milo proceeded.
Milo and I shimmied ourselves from behind the podium stand and planted ourselves in front of the blackboard presentation. "Now, based on a centuries-old translation of a Norse text, historians have believed the journal resides in Ireland." I explained.
"But after comparing the text-" Milo grunted as he picked up the heavy shield. "To the runes on this Viking shield, we found that.. that one of the letters had been mistranslated. So, by changing this letter," I wiped at the board with my sleeve before using chalk to replace the letter R with C.
"And inserting the correct one, we find that the Shepherd's Journal, the key to Atlantis lies not in Ireland, gentlemen but in Iceland." Milo grinned. "Pause for effect," he placed the Viking shield down.
Ops! Esta imagem não segue nossas diretrizes de conteúdo. Para continuar a publicação, tente removê-la ou carregar outra.
"Gentlemen uh, we'll take your questions now," he said as the telephone rang. "Uh, would you gentlemen please excuse us for a moment?" Milo flipped over the blackboard with ease to answer the telephone. I sat down with our "audience".
"Cartography and Linguistics, Milo Thatch speaking."
Milo listened to the angry ranting through the line. He jumped up carefully and switched the light on, revealing us to be the only people in the basement. "Pardon us, Mr Hickenbottom," we edged past the fake crowd of skeletons and antiques towards the boiler.
The machine hissed and groaned as he fixed it before I gave the device a hit with a wrench before Milo returned to the telephone. "How's that? Is that better?" he asked. "Don't let it happen again!" the man scowled before hanging up.
