2 Jul 2010
No Gentleman Should Be
Without A Hero For A Butler
Shades of the incident in which Mr. Ripsnoddle, no Rip Van Winkle nor Nero he, showed that he wasn't one to nod off or fiddle around after a hemp brick barbeque malfunction led to one of wardrobe!
Re-Joyceing we will go......
"I would have inspected the conflagration at that point were it not for the fact that my right trouser leg suddenly fell off! I looked down aghast. The upper thigh-hinge had completely disintegrated and its parts lay, together with the squisito mahogany panelling, upon the grass. That, however, was not the worst of it. Trouser-hinge by trouser-hinge my wonderful hand-carved Mano ed Intagliato mahogany work-trousers disintegrated and fell onto the lawn. I was left standing naked in front of my servants with my modesty saved only by my high tensile, Bengali jute underpants (from the Tache and Marwaris company – the ones with the stained, Venetian glass side panels, tricky to wear, but generally one gets the hang of it by the fifth or sixth pair; or one bleeds to death in the trying, of course, but high fashion has always had its penalties, as we all know).
Quick as a flash Mr. Ripsnoddle, my butler, whipped his jacket off and wrapped it around my exposed nether regions. My servants, what can I say? Later on I tipped him a whole penny, for I was truly grateful for his prompt action. At that moment, as I tied the sleeves of his jacket tightly behind me, the light summer breeze veered slightly and a great gust of smoke from the smouldering bricks was blown over us. Taken unawares I inhaled deeply. Suddenly, nothing mattered. I felt a curious, carefree lightness steal over me. I grinned; I may even have giggled, in a gentlemanly way, of course. I breathed in again and the feeling intensified. After several more smoke-filled breaths I felt exceeding hungry and blessed cook’s forethought in her providing of pasties and macaroons."
by John "Munchies" Joyce