The Eastville Odalisque adapts with notable facility to her new surroundings, vey quickly charming the pants off her fellow inmates. The first to fall prey to her wiles is Mr Don Quicksotte. One morning that foolish, fond old man betakes himself in accordance with his postprandial custom unto his shed in order to beaver away at his toy windmills. Herein for an hour or so, he sits and trundles his lathe and planes his sails and glues his balsa and recalculates his carbon offset greenwash, and indulges the fourscore and ten other petty crafts and skills serving to alleviate his lacklustre life’s autumn. —
Don Quicksotte, Don Quicksotte’s shed
Marry, all good things must come to an end. In particular, it is written that Demeter must retrieve Persephone from Hades’ shed. All of a sudden, the door is wrenched open, and Miss Minerva Ledwitch stands silhouetted in all her awful majesty. —
Herod
Ms. Gamina Dročerpyatova is evidently not in the least discombobulated by the interruption of her tryst with the old dedushka, and vey seamlessly transfers her attentions to the old babushka. In the twinkling of an eye, the latter personage is once more to be found enveloped in the jets and the bubbles and the steam of Charybdis, looking up with an expression of almost the utmost complaisance as Ms. Gamina Dročerpyatova, vey lithe, lowers herself into the tub. This procedure being complete, Miss Minerva Ledwitch clears her throat, and vey sonorously broaches a minor matter which has of late preoccupied her. —
Charybdis (Mangotsfield)
“My dear child, as a descendant of that proud warrior race the Scythians, and as evidenced by your irreproachable conduct since you came among us, you are no stranger to that Freikörperkultur which we revere in this household. The rites of the Siberian shaman are entirely of a piece with the druid’s mysteries, both rooted in blood and soil. In this capacity, you will recognise that I in my de facto sacerdotal function welcome the cultural renewal ensuing from your advent into my family, of which one or two of the rougher sex are somewhat in danger of becoming a tad, how best to put this, pallid, not to say etiolated. Whilst acknowledging the deplorable nature of your recent experience at the hands of darling Mark’s … er … father, nevertheless I am sure you will excuse his boorish behaviour as but the epiphenomenal manifestation of the rejuvenation of life-force wrought by your coming among us. You are, in short, and in almost every way, perfection. There is, nevertheless, and it pains me to say this, my dear, one tiny, almost insignificant little blemish to the escutcheon which you present to the world.” —
Freikörperkultur
Very soon after this, the back door opens and presents for the world’s delectation the proboscis followed promptly by the remainder of Dr Mark Wankstain. The Mangotsfield Actaeon makes a show of looking casually about the garden and, upon as it were chancing to discern the head and shoulders of Ms. Gamina Dročerpyatova where yet that nymph reposes wreathed in the steam of Charybdis, thereat assiduously plasters across his fizzog the significations of the profoundest pleasure and the sublimest satisfaction and, thus prepared, now sashays over to the tub’s lip, where he places a forefinger to his chin and favours the maiden with a beam exhibiting substantially all of his unimpeachably white gnashers. —
Dr Mark Wankstain, The Serpent (Banya Snake)
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