All not-so-good things must come to an end...

Posted September 13, 2007




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Waramon: **playing footsie** Mmmmmmmm

Black Violet: Mmm.



Waramon: My dusky posy, are you pleased?

Black Violet: **a little muffled** Sure. Why wouldn’t I be?



Waramon: Oh… I merely wondered… I enjoy admiring your little namesake tattoo. What a sweet location for it… *chuckle*

Black Violet: Yeah… that was the idea.



Waramon: Are you out of sorts, dear BV? You don’t seem your usual robust self.

Black Violet: Uhmmm… I guess. I’ve been thinking… it’s probably time I went home. I think – I think I actually miss my housemates – and Ms. Ange

Waramon: Ah! How tender of you. I knew there was a softer side to you, besides your lovely skin… *smile*



Boudicca: *hic*!

Black Violet: Did you hear something? I think we’re not alone –

Waramon: No… but then, we’re never truly alone, when we’ve got each other –



Black Violet: Just the same, I’d better get up and check. Besides, I should pack my things. They’re all over hell’s half acre here.

Waramon: Yes… I shall help you, sweet treat. I think I can remember everywhere we’ve been. It will be like revisiting old times, yes…



Black Violet: **stretching** Hmmmm… That noise sounded like a hiccup… say, lazybones, aren’t you going to get up?

Waramon: Presently, frosty blossom, when you’ve done with your calisthenics… the view is so accommodating from here *yawn*.



Black Violet: AHA! I thought there was someone else in the room! What’re you up to, you gin-soaked giraffe? Besides voyeurism?

Boudicca: *hic* S’not gins’very fine vint’nage vine… er, wine. So… Black Turnip… you done  with my wayward *hic* cousin there? Casting him aside like so much… so much… Waramon… you’re cold, you *hic* are…

Waramon: I wouldn’t call it casting, Boudicca dear, -- more of a draping…



Black Violet: One, the name is VIOLET – Black VIOLET. Two, what business is it of yours what Waramon and I do? You’re not married or something, are you?

Boudicca: Well, Violet Black Violet *hic* -- he is blood, an’ you can’t get blood out of a *hic* turnip!



Black Violet: Okay… and just WHAT is your point?

Boudicca: Oh… *hic* I well and truly have forgotten what that is… or why I’m here… this IS rather embarrassing…

Waramon: My dear cousin, I feel  for you, I do – this IS most  awkward. Usually it is ME who forgets!



Boudicca: I would rise  above this, but I am tall enough already…!



Waramon: And I am quite low, more so than usual –



Black Violet: And I’ll be glad to crawl back in that cardboard box for the ride home – can’t be any weirder than THIS -- !



Bon voyage, Violette Noire!


Meantime someone else’s ox is gored in this story of the Elf brothers, Sanar and Inigo


Pride Goeth Before a Pratfall…



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