Tuesday. By CpSingleton © 2015
It was a delightful afternoon, just before bunny-rabbit time, when the royal coach came a calling. Which, to be fair, was quite an achievement for obvious reasons.
I opened the door and took the gold-sealed scroll from the pallid-skinned buffoon in the felt pantaloons.
‘What’s this all about?’ I asked, vastly amused by the whole regal scenario.
‘You are the Grand-Duke Percival Scrivenmouse, are you not?’ He asked in quite a snotty manner. That could be down to the chilly weather and the pantaloons. Who am I to judge? So I overlooked it.
‘No, I’m Lord Carrot of Singleton Manor. GD lives in a one berth caravan, three gardens down. If you pass the deranged cat with the Dutch accent you’ve gone too far.’
He bowed, snatched the scroll from my throbbing hands and strode back to his coach.
And that was that.
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