Three weeks before the meeting, at the 'Sihirli Ağaç' cafe, somewhere on the European side of the river running through Istanbul, a large one-armed man wearing a floral shirt, straw hat, bermuda shorts, and a pair of reflective aviator shades sat, sipping authentic Indian tea and enjoying baclavas flavored with sweet Asian spices. This was, after all, the crossroads of the world, and had been for many centuries. However, with the advent of airships and the like, it would seem that things would perhaps change drastically for the trade industry here. These matters did not concern the one-armed man, however. He just liked to enjoy life, since he had endured many hardships to get to where he was today. He had traveled the world, seeking adventure every which way he went, but while many would tell him to retire at his age, he had no intention of doing anything of the sort. While the one-armed man may have looked like he was in the prime of his life, lazing about whilst sampling the local/international delicacies, he had actually been thinking about where to go next. He had been around America, Asia and Europe, both present and future, and he did not wish to return to Arabia, for fear of getting caught for a crime he committed many decades prior. The rest of the world would be interesting, but he did feel more at home in more developed urban environments. No, this one-armed man would perhaps want to try a different line of work rather than aimless wandering.
As if on cue, the waiter arrived with a note. "'Ey buddy, I didn't ask for the bill yet!" He said with a coarse future Los Angeles accent, one that might have been quite alien to the Turkish waiter.
"Eeeh, sorry, not understand Inglish good"
The one-armed man pushed down his aviators so that his eyes peered over the top of them and his gaze met the nervous waiter's.
"You don't speak English?! What the heck did I hire you f-"
He interrupted himself, noticing that what was on the waiter's tray was not the bill but actually a letter. Still staring at the waiter, he slowly took the letter, placed it on his lap, pulled out his wallet, and placed down three American dollars on the tray. He then dismissed the man with a wave and a casual slap on the butt as he turned around and walked away. No homo.
First, he attempted to cut the envelope by transforming his hand into a comically oversized swiss army knife, but when you don't have another hand to brace the letter with, this would be a more difficult task than anticipated. Instead, he opted to just turn his face into that of a piranha and gnaw at the envelope to create a clean incision, just as piranhas are very well known to do. Of course, other patrons at the cafe were shocked by this magical man, but he honestly did not care about keeping a low profile. This was probably the exact reason it was easy for this message to reach such an intrepid explorer as himself.
As he read it, the thought that sprang to mind was It has been a while since someone has called me 'Mister Genie.' I like it! He glossed over it some more, and upon realizing that this was the exact call to adventure he had been waiting for, he leapt out of his chair, transformed into a young scraggly little poor boy with one arm and yelled "I've got a Golden Ticket!! I've got a Golden Ticket!!" as he raced through the streets of Istanbul. Then he literally raced through the streets of Istanbul as he transformed into a Vespa and stowed away on the nearest ship to London. He couldn't be late to this meeting.
Three weeks later, at the Old Crown Pub in Birmingham, a large one-armed man in an anachronistic sleuth trenchcoat and trilby hat walked in, figuring his meeting was a thing of discretion, which he was not really an expert on. He did catch a few glimpses from the public when he was a one armed bicycle (So essentially a unicycle) moving on its own towards this pub in Birmingham. Nevertheless, he was here now, he had his now smudged and filthy note with him, and he moved towards the backroom, and rapped at the door three times whispering, "The rain in Spain falls mainly on the Plain."
Probably the secret message. Who knows?
