Yesterday I overheard an extremely unsettling conversation. The substitute servants were planning to go out. (Not that they had actually asked permission, you understand, such is the extent of their insubordination)
They are brutish types, as you can clearly see. So it came as no surprise when they spoke about visiting a renowned place of medieval torture and imprisonment. A fortress wherein traitors are regularly incarcerated and tortured. Where foreigners are forced to part with huge sums for the most modest of nourishment (I swear one of them talked about at least three of their human ‘pounds’ for a microscopic tub of frozen cream and fruit). A massive stone tower where men in strange dresses sometimes chop off people’s heads for supporting the wrong political party. Where huge black birds hold sway…
Well, I can’t say that I was surprised they would be interested in such an appalling place. But what they said next made my blood run cold. “Apparently,” said the old female rustic, “there is a menagerie with Elephants, Tigers, a polar bear that catches fish in the Thames, and even Barbary Lions there. If you take a live dog or cat with you, to feed the lions, you can get into the Tower of London for free!” What!?
I can tell you I made myself pretty scarce until I was sure that they had actually gone out. I even considered warning my sister, but unfortunately she was not to be seen. And I did look for her a little bit. Honestly.
I think they may have taken the small orange dog they bought with them. It seems especially dopey and doesn’t say much. As it is a dog, it is of course the lowest form of life and must therefore look after itself.
Ah no. I’ve just spotted it on MY THRONE. Flippin cheek!
The rustics have returned from the place of torture and no cats (or dogs) have been harmed. Thankfully. Apparently the Free Entry with any Small Tasty Domestic Animal Special Offer expired some time in the 18th century.
In one respect I am not unhappy to see them return, as I’m in need of more biscuits. Hungry work this being in fear of your life…
Apparently my sister is fine too. She hid in a bag.
Feste's Lament 