The building where it was: deconsecrated chapel, redbrick, two floors, vey plain. Like low church dissenters it would have been. Lemonade drinkers, with great big shovel beards. Scratchy fabrics worn next to the skin, like scouring it. This I do for virtue’s sake. Mortificatio carnis ad maiorem gloriam! Except it wouldn’t have been in like Latin with them. Vernacular. Like no like priestly intercession. And like everyone like going to like Hell except like the pious like few. —
The deconsecrated chapel
St Just, now inside Reception, where everything in these end times was glass and aluminium and stripped pine, identified himself to the furrow-browed bonehead masticating behind the desk. —
St Just
There now intruded upon his revery that famously mellifluous tone, signifying the presence of the loving paterfamilias, the forbearing forebear. M.Gilles de Pantalon-Rouge materialised, manifested, was palpable, as ever sanguine not to say florid of fizzog and demeanour, subsiding onto the unforgivingly brutalist furnishing across the low table from the ditto in which slouched his loins’ fruit, vented several monumental sighs, and vey sentimentally voiced aloud the detested epithet. —
Gilles de Pantalon-Rouge
“There is another matter,” said then with care M.Gilles de Pantalon-Rouge, “which I am, reluctantly de mon part, put to the necessity of broaching with you. That is to say a discourse, in my capacity, I want to say, as trustee of your … comrade revolutionnaire Milord Snatch. His other trustees, Sir Ezra and Sir Gerald and Lady Valerie and those two bankers, tu sais, they requested that I conduct vey discreetly une petite enquête.” —
Lord Snatch
“Bah! Cette fois c’est de trop! If the Milord révolutionnaire cannot bring himself to assist us in person, then the trustees, Sir Ezra and Sir Gerald and Lady Valerie, and those two bankers, and also myself, you know, we must instruct the ramasseurs that they salvage what of the effects of the Milord comrade révolutionnaire will serve so as to meet the obligations due to his fellow beneficiaries.” —
Ramasseurs
“Oh I see,” said M.Gilles de Pantalon-Rouge, uncomfortably mindful that a reproof for his son’s unbecoming speech would be entirely fitting, withal unwilling to tackle the abundance of worms that would inevitably issue from the can thuswise oped, “oh I see”, said he, “bien, tu sais, Sir Ezra is ever and always in St Peter Port, and likewise Milord Handjob is ever and always in Palm Springs, and Sir Hearty, you know, he is only in Anchor Road, but he is ever and always busy with his investissements. Perhaps the Inhalis, you know, Sir Gerald and Lady Valerie, will grant you an audience. Leur fils Vladimir, je rappelle que tu as eu l’honneur de sa connaissance, n’est-ce pas?” —
Anchor Road, St Peter Port, Palm Springs
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