davywavy | A very difficult competition.

If you’ve known me for a while, you might recall that I periodically enter the competition in the Spectator magazine. The competition tends to be fairly literary and always gives the old ‘use of language’ muscles in the brain a good workout. This week’s competition, however, was a real stinker – and so I thought I’d throw it at you lot.
The challenge was to take the first 101 digits of Pi and write a short piece of prose which uses a word of equivalent length to each digit in the order which they appear in Pi.
A stinker, eh?
For your assistance, the first 101 digits of Pi are: 3.1415926535897932384626433832795028841971693993751058209749445923078164062862089986280348253421170679
Where ‘0’ should be a 10-letter word.
Just to make you work harder, not only have I done this, but also I won first prize (as you will see if you happen to glance at a copy of this week’s magazine). It took three days to write the entry.

My winning entry.

“It’s a maze. A prize conundrum. No bloody doubt.” Our guest shrugged miserably. “Mycroft? Unusually, not in the Diogenes Club. Honest, Mr Holmes, this one has panicked him, I’m certain.”
“Certainly seems irrational. Or singular.”
“Scotland Yard?” I suggested. “Baffled, I assume?”
“Naturally,” the Inspector confessed, not mincing words. “A mysterious crime, executed by miscreants –“ Lestrade’s accents fell fearfully – “more than human, gentlemen.”
“No, not miscreants,” replied Sherlock. “A single mind.”
“Astounding, Holmes!”
“My thinking, Watson, is elementary.”
“Moriarty!” exclaimed Inspector Lestrade, gaping at Sherlock. “Impossible! Not your ‘Napoleon of Crime’! But isn’t he d-“
“A surmise,” interposed Holmes, “clearly premature.”