One settled down to watch ‘Bell, Book and Candle.’ (One’s fourth favourite film)
How is it that One can remain, un-sullied, within the Underground Lair for the passing of many a moon, and yet when One is anxious to hole-up under a blankie and indulge Oneself, the world and his flamin’ dog decide that that is the precise moment when they require a quick word in One’s shell-like.
One has never, ever seen it all the way through and therefore has never quite picked up the knack of enchanting the object of One’s desire. Not that One could deploy One’s very own Pyewacket, since he shuffled off this mortal coil in a blur of claw and flea powder some time ago.
Ah, well, One shall deploy One’s own method. Hurl all One’s hopes and dreams heavenward and see what occurs without the power of witch craft.
A most satisfactory result thus far!
‘Did you see the moon?’ enquired Princess P’s manservant, as One and the WN waited for our fifteen minutes of fame in 10 Radio land.
See the moon? One has seen nothing but legs and feet various pass the window of the second best boudoir for an age.
The Wood Nymph had seen it though and reported it’s loveliness, so this very night One has been patrolling the grounds by moonlight making wishes and murdering molluscs a-plenty.
How very boring! One hears you collectively chorus, Dear Reader.
I know, I know, but there it is. All is right with One’s little world at the mo, so absolutely no drama, dilemma or disaster for you all to crow over.
Except perhaps, the slight dismembering of One’s delightful companion.
Many a poor sap has come to grief after the briefest of visits to the Underground Lair, but tonight was the first time One has despatched a gentleman with part of his anatomy in a Spode receptacle requiring re-attachment.