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Boudicca sits alone in the parlour

 Posted August 26, 2008

 

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What is it she holds? –

 

 

-- a certain gentleman’s photo, prettily framed.

 

 

**gently replaces photo on pedestal**

Boudicca: *siiiiiigh*…

 

 

Isambard: **flings self on bench** And why does my sister have a longer face than usual? Though there is a softness about it, instead of the familiar haughty façade that has brought you fame and fortune, I swear!

Boudicca: OH! You great stork, don’t startle me like that. Swear all you like, somewhere else.

 

 

Isambard: **spies photo** What have we here? Who IS this fine gentleman; his visage I’m sure I should be familiar with!

Boudicca: I don’t know what you’re babbling on about; the picture came with the frame, and is simply ornamental.

 

 

Isambard: Ah – it comes to me now – this is your sweetheart, Napolean – isn’t it? When last we saw him, it was in San Francisco, I believe. **winks at audience**

Boudicca: Move closer, will you, so I may more conveniently administer the back of my hand to your addled pate, brother mine!

 

 

Isambard: Come now – it’s not as if it is a secret. I was witness, and find it touching that you have found love at last, or a fair facsimile. Can’t I show my brotherly love and concern for my only sister?

Boudicca: Pffft -- show it the door. The only thing touching about that might be my foot in your backside, IF I had the energy to do so.

 

 

Isambard: Haha, I have always been entertained by your concealment of your true feelings. Still, I envy you finding love – sometimes I despair of finding same for myself.

Boudicca: *SNERK*!

Isambard: Does that noise mean I need to perform one of those German-sounding manœuvres for you?

Boudicca: I think I have done so already *snicker*.

 

 

Vivienne: Doubtless we shan’t confuse it with a certain other manœuvre you were so well known for, eh, Bouddie?

 

 

Isambard: Well hallo Viv, you old spotted cow – mistook this domicile for your familial barn, then?

Boudicca: Viv! What brings you here, besides a Black Maria?

Vivienne: Come now, no need for all this sentiment. **idly waves hand** I was passing by, and felt the need for your brand of old-fashioned verbal abuse – like a mother’s lullaby to me, tra-la!

 

 

Isambard: I say, you are looking well, Vivvie, but what poor little mauve beast gave its pelt for your pleasure?

Vivienne:This is news to me, that you should care for the little beasts of the field, forest and pen, you hound of the hunt. Make yourself useful, and offer refreshment to this weary traveller, posthaste! With emphasis on the haste…

 

 

Isambard: As I recall, your preferred tipple was champagne – shall I use your slipper to serve madam?

Vivienne: Good heavens, no, are you daft? It will spill out immediately, and be wasted – use Bouddie’s clodhopper, will you -- just like the good old days!

 

 

Boudicca: You heard her, Isambard, show our hospitality, and fetch some champagne at once. Bolly, preferably.

Isambard: I would say that I am honored to do so; in this event, though, there is nothing honorable about it!

Vivienne: I was prepared to beat you with my other shoe; however, you have beaten me to the punch – though I still prefer champagne.

**Isambard exits**

 

 

Vivienne: How little things change; your brother is ever the jester. In my mind I always hear the sound of tiny bells whenever I see him. So… how have you been keeping yourself, Bouddie, closeted away from the world? Why did you cease modeling, and leave poor little baa-lamb me alone among the wolves?

Boudicca: I never thought of you as a lamb, Viv – an ostrich, more likely. I did not think you would miss me, as you seemed to be otherwise preoccupied –

 

 

Vivienne: Ah, but misery loves company, you know! **gestures at photo** Perhaps this is your reason for forsaking your old childhood companion, then? Who is this; own up!

Boudicca: He was a guest here some months back, with his sister, who had a baby during the visit –

 

 

Vivienne: A baby? I know we have gotten ourselves involved with some questionable sorts, but – incest? Though sooner or later it may become the custom -- .**brow furrows**

Boudicca: Oh, nonoNO! His sister had the baby by someone else residing here! I certainly hope that does NOT become the custom, or I shall have to resort to the nunnery!

 

 

Vivienne: Yes… you and Isambard – the mind boggles. Oddly, I do recall some bits of Shakespeare, and I think you may be misusing the word “nunnery” –

 

 

Boudicca: Oh, I SO hate to admit it, but you are right! My head is fuddled more than usual of late, and all because of the chap in the photo. How he has turned it with his flights of fancy, calling me his “fertility goddess”, and being – oh, gallant – and – and worshipful, with that “New Age” business mixed in –

Vivienne: It sounds like more than one head is fuddled here. “New Age”, my foot. Next thing you know, you’ll be chanting about Stonehenge in a gown made from your bedding –

Boudicca: How did you know about that -- was it in the gossip sheets? I should know that there can be no secrets!

 

 

Isambard: Ladies, I return with your beverage of choice – the bubbly made by happily demented monks! Though loosely do I use the term “ladies” --

Boudicca: Is that why you neglected to bring glasses, then?

Vivienne: No matter, as you are correct, we are NO ladies – as YOU are NO gentleman!

Isambard: This is so! Besides, I’ve seen you drink directly from the bottle before; why bother with the middle man, I say. Spares the servants the tedious business of finding the goblets afterwards, and washing-up, as well – cheerio! **exits**

 

 

Boudicca: Well – I raise my bottle to you, Vivvie. Not that I ever expected be around long enough to be nostalgic…

Vivienne: Really – you meant to leave me go alone to the old folks’ home, then? I’m beginning to think you’re trying to get away from me, Bouddie dear. Well, no matter, here I am. As long as the champagne flows, you shan’t be shed of me. Cheers!

 

 

Isambard: *to self* And you shan’t be shed of ME, either, Vivvie – I daresay there isn’t enough champagne to ever wash me away! Bottoms up…

 

 

Now just what do you think Isambard means?

 

Persephone has a lesson for Jill in WV’s Pete -

 

Walk This Way

 

 

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