Thursday, November 17, 2005

v1n1: Dinner at Humble Manor

There were rats in the souffle again.

"'Tis all we 'ad, sir," she said, a Cockney accent betraying her humble roots.

"Why couldn't we have cat ... or dog for a change?" he asked indignantly. The once proud, arrogant nobleman — reduced to scavenger — surveyed his few remaining possessions, made insignificant by his circumstances.

"We ate the cat last week, sir," she said.

"Damn!" he answered. "Rotten luck! I suppose now I'll have to sell the Renoir."


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