Quadrivial Quandary:  Logophiles, Rejoice!  Each day we give you four unusual words.  Can you fit them all in one illustrative sentence?

Attempts to resolve the Quandary:


Now, as it happens, TP had called Timothy O'Leary, Joiners and Funeral Directors to the Bishopric, before making the call to Dublin, because he hoped that Enda's body could be removed from the bus before the schoolchildren who lived on the farms and small-holdings that side of the village should come across it, and for his part, Tim O'Leary had called Constable Jenkins at the RIC station – which implied more than the actual one constable – and they both arrived at the same time; O'Leary was certainly not a fusspot, he was a large, florid man in his seventies who had been laying folk in this part of the country to rest for fifty-six years, since he'd become apprentice to his own father, Larry, and he was accompanied by his youngest son, Desmond: "well, Constable Jenkins, your mileage may vary, but I should think this is a case of Murder, Most Foul, wouldn't you?" but Jenkins, while a very minor official in the Royal Irish Constabulary, wasn't wet behind the ears and saw exactly where this was heading: "until the Coroner declares it Natural, Suicide, Accidental or Misadventure, sure it isn't my place to hazard an opinion which would be purely guesswork, which is, of course, frowned upon in Legal Circles!" he had a pretty huge conceit of hisself for so lowly an officer, thought O'Leary, who ventured: "perhaps you'd like to call out Dr Johnstone to certify that ould Enda is dead, then, I wouldn't want to to risk the wrath of Legal Circles by hazardin a guess, bein as I'm just a Joiner, and not a Medical Practitioner, or even a Lawyer, at that, now, would you, Constable Jenkins?" well, as can be imagined, this homily put the PC into a besorrowed state of mind – he could see that from a purely practical state of things, Mr O'Shaughnessy was quite obviously dead, no doubt about it, but he also knew, from his encyclopaedic knowledge of the Rules and Regulations governing Police Procedures, that the declaration that Life is Extinct had to be made by a Medical Practitioner, prior to the removal of a corpse from the place where it had been discovered; oh! what a quandary for the mind of a rodomontade to grapple with, the endless permutations, never mind paperwork, which would have to bear his signature, thereby formalising his culpability should, at some future Inquest or Heaven forfend, Trial, he be asked "who exactly was it who certified Mr Enda O'Shaughnessy's Death, Constable Jenkins?" and could picture hisself, in his mind's practised eye, leafing through his notebook, knowing that the only answer which could eventually be dragged from his lips would be: "me, Your Honour!" and he almost shat hisself, there and then!

(by MissTeriWoman)
The Quandary for Sunday, September 30, 2018 consisted of: Challenge: use all four words together in one illustrative sentence.

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