Epilogue

After the dinner with Banta was over, Philip felt quite pissed off.  He had hardly eaten anything, Banta having siphoned off his appetite. Fretting and fuming, he returned to his room, ticking his staff off on the way….

He barked at his chauffer,

“Check the limo’s battery…..O haberdasher of asshattery!”

He roared at his valet,

“Bring me lettuce soup…O leather-eared navel-deprived twiddle-poop!”

He thundered at his butler,

“A bottle of the best wine…..O jumped-up shoe-duffing bog-swine!”

He snarled at his dog-walker,

“Did you feed the Royal Hound…..O sponge-butted cumberground!”

He bellowed at his cook,

“Roast me a peking duck….O weasel-headed yellow livered quakebuttock!”

Having thus lambasted his footman, horsetrainer, gardener, masseuse, governess, secretary, groundskeeper, laundress and secretary, Philip felt a little better. In fact he was quite pleased by his new found lyrical skill. As he entered his bedroom, he saw Elizabeth preparing to go to sleep.

He couldn’t check himself. Turning to his wife, he hollered at her,

“My pyjamas badly need a stitch…O umbilically-fixated coop-crawling bitch!”

Elizabeth threw a table lamp at Philip and screamed, …….


Now this is for you guys and gals to fill up 😀

Cheers

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