Advent 26: Charades
Dec. 26th, 2023 03:59 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
stonepicnicking_okapiI confess I am losing a bit of steam, but have a double drabble of Bertie Wooster playing competitive charades for the Drones (and, as always, Jeeves to the rescue).
“My fault as Team Captain, lads. I knew it was a mistake to put Wooster in the line-up at so critical a juncture,” moaned Catsmeat Potter-Pirbright under his breath. “It’s not just the loss of the half dozen cases—six cases, lads!—of limited edition, luxury brand Snowflake champagne, an elixir which practically pours itself down the gullet, the likes of which which would seriously enliven the club’s end-of-year festivities—”
“It’s also the honor of the Drones at stake!” declare Bingo Little in equally hushed tones. “We can’t let those blighters win! We’ll never heard the end of it!”
“It’s just charades!” muttered Oofy Prosser, joining the discussion despite the fact it was occurring literally behind his back. “You’d think he’d be master of that! Two words, I have no idea what he’s getting at—unless he’s actually having an epileptic fit.”
“Thirty seconds, gentlemen! We must have your answer!”
“Sir, I believe you dropped this,” interjected a deep, respectful voice.
Catsmeat looked up. “My cigarette case? Oh, thank you, Jeeves. Yes, I need a smoke.”
“Might I add, I found it aside a curious item, an….icicle…dagger…”
Six sets of eyes went wide.
“ICICLE DAGGER!”
“FINALLY, YOU SAD SACKS!”
“My fault as Team Captain, lads. I knew it was a mistake to put Wooster in the line-up at so critical a juncture,” moaned Catsmeat Potter-Pirbright under his breath. “It’s not just the loss of the half dozen cases—six cases, lads!—of limited edition, luxury brand Snowflake champagne, an elixir which practically pours itself down the gullet, the likes of which which would seriously enliven the club’s end-of-year festivities—”
“It’s also the honor of the Drones at stake!” declare Bingo Little in equally hushed tones. “We can’t let those blighters win! We’ll never heard the end of it!”
“It’s just charades!” muttered Oofy Prosser, joining the discussion despite the fact it was occurring literally behind his back. “You’d think he’d be master of that! Two words, I have no idea what he’s getting at—unless he’s actually having an epileptic fit.”
“Thirty seconds, gentlemen! We must have your answer!”
“Sir, I believe you dropped this,” interjected a deep, respectful voice.
Catsmeat looked up. “My cigarette case? Oh, thank you, Jeeves. Yes, I need a smoke.”
“Might I add, I found it aside a curious item, an….icicle…dagger…”
Six sets of eyes went wide.
“ICICLE DAGGER!”
“FINALLY, YOU SAD SACKS!”