What Ho!
Old Ghastley is still slumped at the breakfast table, staring at a bowl of fruit.
You sidle on up to him. His countenance still gives you a twinge of fear, but you persevere, opening up with a bit of light hearted banter.
"Oh, hello." He grunts at you, lost in grief. You realize that you're going to have to try another conversational ice breaker.
"What ho, what ho, what ho," you say, at a bit of a loss for words.
Astley turns his grizzled head towards you. "What are you saying 'what ho' for young man?"
"Oh, just making conversation. Oh, I say, too bad about those bally flowers, what?"
"Oh, my begonias!" cries Ghastley, returning to his private grief.
You realize that your stomach is unhappy with the two meagre slices of brown bread, and is demanding a substantial increase in sustenance in the near future. Capitulating to its threats, you decide it's a good time for elevenses.
You perch yourself at the board, and seize the teapot in one hand while laying a mitten upon a particularly juicy looking apple. You pour a bit of the restorative liquid into a cup and gratefully start sipping.
You smile genially at Ghastley. "Oh, I say! Tea! Tea, capital, capital. Bucks you up, rather!" You start humming a happy tea drinking melody of your own invention.
Ghastly is staring at you in horror. He is turning a peculiar shade of burgundy.
"Y-Y-YOU!!!!!" he gasps, making the obvious point.
You blink a bit, caught in the middle of a nice juicy bite of apple.
"You're that filthy boy who destroyed my apples years ago. I recognized you just now, when you started cramming your greedy maw with my fruit again." He claws the apple out of your grasp and shakes it accusingly at you.
You think it would be best to deny everything. "Heh-heh, no, actually you see it was all Guppy Pillock's idea, I mean if you have the right bloke, which I'm not, you see..." you start edging for the door.
Astley grabs his ash walking stick. "And now you've returned to steal my begonias! Help! Thief!" He hobbles to his feet and begins chasing you about the room, swinging his stick wildly. You reflect that Ghastly is in fairly top form for his age catagory.
It is really a good time to make an exit, so after a few obligatory laps around the breakfast hall, you head for the kitchen door and dive through.
Sadly, once again the fates frown upon poor Peter Posteltwaite the Third. Sir Robert is lurking in the darkness, and as you sail through the door he cocks his pea shooter and levels it at you "I've got you now, begonia thief!" he says triumphantly, prodding your chest with the barrel.
You force yourself to smile casually at him. "Ah, then, back through the door, then?" you say, pleased with your savoir-faire. Even if you are gulping a bit much for the complete savoir touch. "Ouch!" you add as Sir Bob pokes you with his gun between your shoulderblades.
You sidle on up to him. His countenance still gives you a twinge of fear, but you persevere, opening up with a bit of light hearted banter.
"Oh, hello." He grunts at you, lost in grief. You realize that you're going to have to try another conversational ice breaker.
"What ho, what ho, what ho," you say, at a bit of a loss for words.
Astley turns his grizzled head towards you. "What are you saying 'what ho' for young man?"
"Oh, just making conversation. Oh, I say, too bad about those bally flowers, what?"
"Oh, my begonias!" cries Ghastley, returning to his private grief.
You realize that your stomach is unhappy with the two meagre slices of brown bread, and is demanding a substantial increase in sustenance in the near future. Capitulating to its threats, you decide it's a good time for elevenses.
You perch yourself at the board, and seize the teapot in one hand while laying a mitten upon a particularly juicy looking apple. You pour a bit of the restorative liquid into a cup and gratefully start sipping.
You smile genially at Ghastley. "Oh, I say! Tea! Tea, capital, capital. Bucks you up, rather!" You start humming a happy tea drinking melody of your own invention.
Ghastly is staring at you in horror. He is turning a peculiar shade of burgundy.
"Y-Y-YOU!!!!!" he gasps, making the obvious point.
You blink a bit, caught in the middle of a nice juicy bite of apple.
"You're that filthy boy who destroyed my apples years ago. I recognized you just now, when you started cramming your greedy maw with my fruit again." He claws the apple out of your grasp and shakes it accusingly at you.
You think it would be best to deny everything. "Heh-heh, no, actually you see it was all Guppy Pillock's idea, I mean if you have the right bloke, which I'm not, you see..." you start edging for the door.
Astley grabs his ash walking stick. "And now you've returned to steal my begonias! Help! Thief!" He hobbles to his feet and begins chasing you about the room, swinging his stick wildly. You reflect that Ghastly is in fairly top form for his age catagory.
It is really a good time to make an exit, so after a few obligatory laps around the breakfast hall, you head for the kitchen door and dive through.
Sadly, once again the fates frown upon poor Peter Posteltwaite the Third. Sir Robert is lurking in the darkness, and as you sail through the door he cocks his pea shooter and levels it at you "I've got you now, begonia thief!" he says triumphantly, prodding your chest with the barrel.
You force yourself to smile casually at him. "Ah, then, back through the door, then?" you say, pleased with your savoir-faire. Even if you are gulping a bit much for the complete savoir touch. "Ouch!" you add as Sir Bob pokes you with his gun between your shoulderblades.