What Ho!
Despite the fact that you are completely and utterly innocent, the strain of it all breaks your psyche.
"It's true!" you cry. "All of it! I'm the one. I stole the blasted begonias, the apples, the headmaster's biscuits and even Fatty's socks!"
Fatty nods thoughtfully "I was wondering where they got to. Understandable, of course. They ARE nice socks," he concedes charitably.
Sir Robert looks smug. "Aha, I knew it. Well, off to Newgate with you."
Cuddy runs forward and clasps your hands in hers. "But Petey, why?"
Your anguished brain reels and without thinking, you borrow from dramatic literature and plays. "Er, well, for, um love of course." It's a good bit, but could scarcely be more ill timed.
"For love!" sighs Cuddy, needlessly repeating the phrase. "Oh, Petey, you poor misguided creature I never knew the depth of your feelings. I will visit you every day in jail, I promise!" You notice that she isn't exactly confessing her role in the whole bally affair, though.
Fatty clears his throat in an embarassed manner. "Oh, I say Postletwaite, I didn't realize that your were so taken with the girl. I would have stepped aside if you had simply brought the subject up."
Even Sir Robert seems to be joining in. "Love, here now, I can relate to that," he says rubbing his belly thoughtfully. He turns to Astley "I say, milord, you wouldn't be one to stand in the way of True Love now would you?"
Ghastly sighs. "Well, I DO have my flowers back. Just so long as he and his apple raiding cronies never darken my doorstep again."
"No chance of that," pipes in MacG. "I have a place for an enterprising fellow like this in my dogfood empire." He chortles a bit, polishing his glasses. "Swiped them out, right under their noses. Well done! Of course, next time don't hide them in plain sight, my boy." He glances at Astley and gives an embarassed grin. "Just joking, of course. I'm sure there'll be no next time."
Imprisoned in Cuddy's iron embrace you resign yourself to your inevitable fate.
"It's true!" you cry. "All of it! I'm the one. I stole the blasted begonias, the apples, the headmaster's biscuits and even Fatty's socks!"
Fatty nods thoughtfully "I was wondering where they got to. Understandable, of course. They ARE nice socks," he concedes charitably.
Sir Robert looks smug. "Aha, I knew it. Well, off to Newgate with you."
Cuddy runs forward and clasps your hands in hers. "But Petey, why?"
Your anguished brain reels and without thinking, you borrow from dramatic literature and plays. "Er, well, for, um love of course." It's a good bit, but could scarcely be more ill timed.
"For love!" sighs Cuddy, needlessly repeating the phrase. "Oh, Petey, you poor misguided creature I never knew the depth of your feelings. I will visit you every day in jail, I promise!" You notice that she isn't exactly confessing her role in the whole bally affair, though.
Fatty clears his throat in an embarassed manner. "Oh, I say Postletwaite, I didn't realize that your were so taken with the girl. I would have stepped aside if you had simply brought the subject up."
Even Sir Robert seems to be joining in. "Love, here now, I can relate to that," he says rubbing his belly thoughtfully. He turns to Astley "I say, milord, you wouldn't be one to stand in the way of True Love now would you?"
Ghastly sighs. "Well, I DO have my flowers back. Just so long as he and his apple raiding cronies never darken my doorstep again."
"No chance of that," pipes in MacG. "I have a place for an enterprising fellow like this in my dogfood empire." He chortles a bit, polishing his glasses. "Swiped them out, right under their noses. Well done! Of course, next time don't hide them in plain sight, my boy." He glances at Astley and gives an embarassed grin. "Just joking, of course. I'm sure there'll be no next time."
Imprisoned in Cuddy's iron embrace you resign yourself to your inevitable fate.