Quadrivial Quandary:  Logophiles, Rejoice!  Each day we give you four unusual words.  Can you fit them all in one illustrative sentence?
Quandary Resolution 8265
great guns, laird, incognito, schlager, n.2

At the very same moment in Time – relatively speaking, and albeit in Berlin in the summer of 1939 – Vlado Chernozemsky had already double and triple-checked the detonators, the explosives, the giant Stink Bomb he had previously secreted in the sewer beneath the Berlin strasse along which the motorcade, with the limousine carrying Prince Alexander of Yugoslavia and that jumped-up German Lairdie, Reichsfuhrer-SS Heinrich Himmler would pass; he had the radio receivers supplied to him by Uncle Hans Steckrübe in situ, wired up and primed and attached to a belt which he wore under his disguise, the unique transmitter which Uncle Hans had invented and constructed – that had been tried and tested several times over the past three weeks and at various locations outside the city, a dog, a sheep and a cow had been successfully blown up from distances ranging between twenty-five and 100 metres, three trees had been felled, a car had disintegrated and a shepherd's hovel reduced to rubble; the Bulgarian Assassin par excellence was cock-a-hoop and it was all the two American Agents, Majors Holly Martins and J Alfred Prufrock could do to stop him dancing a jig in the middle of Unter-den-Lindenstrasse the night before: "are you absolutely sure that your disguise will pass muster?" – – asked Prufrock, as they had hustled Chernozemsky into the van which was to be their getaway vehicle: "abso-bloody-lutely, it's all coming together great guns," laughed Vlado, "it will be like I am the Indivisible Man, completely incognito will I be, no-one will suspect a thing!" but to Prufrock, more used to measuring things out in coffee-spoons, such supreme self-confidence was usually misplaced: "let's just run through it again, to make sure that I have got it all right," he said, knowing better than to suggest that Chernozemsky might have it all wrong: "okay," said the Bulgarian, with mock patience: "we will be a party of Nazi-supporting aristocratic revellers, making our way homeward from a Fancy Dress Ball, bawling out patriotic schlager like the best of the schweine," and Martins slipped in: "who will be who?" which solecism made Prufrock wince, as usual, and he could not stop himself correcting it: "whom," and Martins shrugged, "okay, whom will be who?" and Vlado chuckled: "Palestrina and Gertie will be Dresden Shepherdesses, Prince Hubertus will be Napoleon and Olga will be Josephine, I am being Batman and Hans is Robin, and you two are Micky the Mouse and Donald the Duck - you can fight among yourselves to decide which is which," and looking over his shoulder as he drove, Prufrock asked: "and all the costumes are at the apartment?" as Vlado nodded vigorously: "ja, ja, and two dressers from the Movie Studio are coming over with Olga to make sure we are tip-top perfect, these girls are perfectionists, like me, so nothing can possibly go wrong!" which was when a black car cut in front of them and brought the van to a squealing halt as two Gestapo Officers leapt from the car and approached them, lugers drawn and pointing at the cab!

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