Bucky's Edwardian House Party

Miscellaneous and Personal Stuff I Must Share
121

The youngish, lost, bewildered, red-haired American woman is about to knock on the door, when she hears slapping noises, followed by moans, groans, and…giggles? Is that giggling?

Huh? What is that noise? Oh well. This is a huge English manor, I’m sure it’s full of odd things.

Why am I here? she wondered to herself. Because I need a job. My parents sent me over here for an education, and I sure got one. Her mind drifted lazily back to that afternoon with Professor De Haven. The bright, witty, charming Professor. Charmed me right out of my bloomers, he did, she thought angrily. And lied to me. Lied. He was married. Doesn’t bother to tell me until she walks in and catches us. Bloody rotten…

The door opens. “Hello, my name is Laura duLamb. I understand someone here is looking for a governess?”

“The quickest way to a man’s heart is through his ribcage.” --anonymous redhead

122

VB, you bounder, you keep missing the target! You killed “Cas Wm” it is true. But I am
“Chas Wm” and I live!! Even now I swoop down on my steed to swoop up…

sweep up?

swope up?

Damn!

Chas Wm

123

Run away with a woman running across the field with large shoes!

Yes, she’s in my clutches now, and peeps out that her name is Pixoid.
KHAN!!!

Chas Wm, laughing diabolically while repairing your car at a reasonable price.

124

A governess? My darling girl, there are no children here! Let me walk you out…

…Are you insane!? Lord B’s already suspicious about me. If he sees through you, the intrigue will be discovered and we’ll be destroyed! And you’ll have to say good-bye to your precious Professor…forever! ::smiles sweetly:: And we can’t have that, now can we?

“…being normal is not necessarily a virtue. It rather denotes a lack of courage.”

125

Oh goodness. Lord B is quicker than I was told.

Well, I do need a job. Really. The Professor isn’t, well, he isn’t giving me much in the way of financial assistance anymore. His wife was a bit put out when she caught us together. I held my tongue, though, and didn’t say a word. I mean, I could have told the Professor right there just how happy his wife was when they hired that new buggy driver. Handsome young fellow. And he liked Missus De Haven quite a bit. Kept her occupied and entertained, that’s for certain. Noisy boy, though. He had a bit of a thing for the sheep, too, but I never mentioned that to Missus De Haven.

Oh, listen to me ramble. I’m quite tired, really. Might I get a bite to eat, and a short nap here? I won’t be a bother. Lovely manor, this is. I just bet there’s all kinds of interesting things that go on here. All kinds interesting things.

“The quickest way to a man’s heart is through his ribcage.” --anonymous redhead

126

True to form, Pixoid screams, beats her hands against her oppressor, and falls into a dead faint. This simplifies things for the aforementioned oppressor, as it is much easier to carry away a still maiden, especially while on a horse.

(And the Pixoid far off in the future sighs, and thinks, “She could’ve gotten away–he wouldn’t expect her to seriously fight back, and that would’ve taken him by surprise. Sometimes the damsel in distress has gotta be her own knight in shining armor.”)

So, Chas Wm is making away with the helpless (darn it) maiden, whom nobody knows is missing! What will that diabolical man do next?

127

Firefly moves to the bed, planning to take advantage of the unconscious Lady Falcon. But he stumbles, and his head bangs into the heavy wood post of the four-poster bed before he can break his fall.

Hours later, when he comes to, he finds…

128

Chas Wm, finding the lovely Pixoid passed out in his arms has one of his characteristic personality flips and…

throws her a FABULOUS tea party! Hers will be the grandest hat of them all, and there will be ever so many dainty things to eat: Cucumber sandwiches with the crusts removed, adorable marzipan in the shape of sombreros, green tea with just a hint of jasmine, hothouse strawberries, and a lovely little bottle of arrak, with which Chas Wm will get the prettily dressed Pixoid drunk and helpless and

Shrink her to the size of a doll as he binds her to the railorad tracks of his model train set while tickling her with a feather plucked from the left wing of a white dove. As the tears of laughter, confusion, fear, and frank contempt fot the new spate of game shows currently airing roll down her face, the often-victimized Pixoid thinks to herself

“Dear God, how I love marzipan.”

129

But I’m sick of it–it always gives me a dreadful tummy-ache.

And apparently, Lord Bucky and his guests are unable to assist me. Perhaps Chas Wm has captured them, as well!

So, it’s all up to me and those meddling kids…shoot, they’re not here, are they. So it’s just me. Well, I look a little like Velma, so…

You’ve got to be proud when you can’t even think of a category to nominate yourself in…

Vote in the SDMB Elections!

130

PixVekma, after all the trouble I took to make marzipan in sombrero shapes you COMPLAIN? {Chas Wm, who has indeed tied up most of the guests (most of whom are smiply squirming about and saying "ooh, he used VELVET this time) now makes Pixoid dress in one of those ridiculous sets of little girl pajamas and puts her hair into pigtails. ah, but the pj’s are not so ridiculous, because they have a “back door” which is easily opened once PixVelma is over his maniacal lap. From there, being that he is evil, after all, he begins to spank her with a hairbrush. Much wailing and gnashing of teeth continues…}

Meanwhile, in the snowfort, Katy has just nailed Lord B with a snowball which has knocked off his top hat. She obviously doens’t realize the peril possible from Chas Wm or Lord B, as he picks her up under his arm , thus leaving her head dangling upside down, and alternately smacks her bottom while toassing more snow down her panties. “Fire and ice, my dear,” he cackles, perhaps already falling under the spell of evil coming from Chas Wm.

Meanwhile meanwhile, Lord B’s brother, not quite up to snuff in the evil department, subscribes everyone at the party to “Reader’s Digest” and tries to order pizzas in their name.

131

< VB, having been patched up and rather thoroughly revived by the Lady Falcon, hears of the psychotic Buckys’ brutalizing of m’ladies Pixoid and Katy, sallies forth once more to do battle; “This shit’s getting old” he is heard to mutter as he leaps through the opening in the snow fort >

"Unhand the ladies, you varlet! do you see what I have in my hand? No no, my other hand! That’s right! It’s the Bank of Englands’ foreclosure notice! It would seem that your mortgage has fallen seriously in arrears! And it didn’t help that the fiendish Chas. Wm. insulted the bankers wife, tweaked his nose, and killed (after ravishing) his secretary! You are forthwith and forever banished from the ancestral lands! Off with you, you schizoid bahstad!
All your property now belongs to…

VB

Tempus is fugiting all over the place! Carpe that diem!

132

John, Brock’s man, son of Lord Brock’s rather wealthy retainer, Sir deShan, stumbles out of the wine cellar.

Oh dear, looks like the poor lad doesn’t know that The Sacking of Rome was canceled and is still wearing a sheet. From the looks of him, he began drinking several days in advance in preparation for his part in the event.

He doesn’t see anyone in the game parlor, just a few bonnets and a saucer of milk, and staggers off in search of one of those delightful French maids.

Stumbles off in the direction of the bedrooms.

I sold my soul to Satan for a dollar. I got it in the mail.

133

No, wait!

Oh, shoot… < rebuttons the dreadful pajamas, and returns to her tirade >

Sir VB! You’ve got the wrong one! That’s Bucky, not Chas Wm! Bucky, while rather enticing, is not a serious threat, in that he’d rather kiss 'em than kill 'em.

And anyway, it’s bad form to foreclose on the host. Especially after you’ve spanked his maids.

Wait one more sec. < Grabs the nearby vase (cheap imitation–bought by Bucky expressly for this purpose–he has better taste for decorating), and smashs Buckster, the evil brother, over the head. He falls, pulling open the trapdoor, which Pix fixes as unobstrusively as possible. She picks up the phone and says >

Cancel those pizzas. Yeah, I’m sure…or wait…send over five. One veggie, two cheese, two sausage.

< searches Buckster’s pockets for change >

Well, he’s the one who ordered them, right? And am I the only one getting hungry?

And get someone to cancel the Reader’s Digest. And call the authorities on Buckster here. And…and…and…oh, golly, these damn pajamas… < rebuttons, again >

Oh, no you don’t! < Tackles Chas Wm, who’s trying to escape, unnoticed. >

What do you guys want to do to him?

You’ve got to be proud when you can’t even think of a category to nominate yourself in…

Vote in the SDMB Elections!

134

You must tie him down to a bed…and spank him!

Yes, spank him as hard as you like.

And after the spanking… The ORAL SEX!
CHORUS
:: the oral sex, the oral sex!!::

I sold my soul to Satan for a dollar. I got it in the mail.

135

I suggest that all the ladies come in here and we could play “Store the Marbles” with him. It would be such fun.

Of course someone must retrieve them all first, as I think they’re still hidden…
Ladies??

136

I’m dreadfully sorry, you already found all the marbles I had except for three, and those are going to stay lost for a very long time, I fear. However, in all the confusion with Chas Wm, I was hiding. I crept through the secret passages beneath this very room, found a door that had been very well hidden, enough to escape detection for eons, that led to the dungeon. Oh, yes, this manor has a dungeon. A most intriguing place indeed. I retrieved this… interesting device, could someone please explain to me what it is? Anyway, we have a dungeon, a place to put Chas Wm when we finally capture him, as well as a place to do… other things…

An infinite number of rednecks in an infinite number of pickup trucks shooting an infinite number of shotguns at an infinite number of road signs will eventually produce all the world’s great works of literature in Braille.

137

wanders in to the room with Chas Wm bound and gagged with a silken skarf.

Well now, bondage, eh? I heard the Lady de Garbage-Neurotique talkin ta one of the : :pauses to regain his balance, leans (falls) against a wall:: maids, that one that likes spanking, ya know? about some sort of BDShM chamber downshtairs. Whoo! I gotta sit down. I might have had too much to drink ::giggles drunkenly for a little bit::. Hey, it’s one of those maids! Come 'ere, woudja? I’m just a bit cold, here. I’m only wearing this sheet, ya shee? ::guestures to a sheet with a number of wine stains that hangs askew from his shoulders:: Could ya keep me a little warmer, eh, eh? : :obviously thinking that he’s dashing and charming, he waggles his eyebrows and passes out::

I sold my soul to Satan for a dollar. I got it in the mail.

138

Damn those smileys!!

I sold my soul to Satan for a dollar. I got it in the mail.

139

Ummm? Oh! Heh heh; Did I say forclosure?! I meant restraining order!

However, this is getting quite old; as you may recall, I first strangled Chas Wm., then I did for Cas Wm. quite bloodily, but most satisfactory, so, in my book that just leaves one…Heh…heh…

Heeere Buckster Buckster Buckster!

VB

Tempus is fugiting all over the place! Carpe that diem!

140

Bit of a nuisance, actually, what with deranged relations running abut, some of whom seem to have sold their souls to various and sundry demons to gain their virtually miraculous abilities to escape the G. Reaper and all that.

Anyway, Chas Wm seems to have taken it into his head to depart for the nonce. He muttered something about making “Newton’s Applesauce,” or some such rot. Buckster trotted off with him.

So, the evil appears to be over. Ripping.
Quite the thing, eh, to have less of all that, as we say, evil lying about.

So, whist anyone? A nice game of Blind Man’s Bluff? Perhaps that nice Mr. Wilde (quite the ladies’ man, by the by) will read for us.

Bloody hell, who am I kidding? Who wants to get the next jolly good spanking?

The delightfully relieved Lord B