Tuesday, July 24, 2012

Servants of the Secret F***

A few days ago was the birthday, or some such thing, of yet another group of servants. BBB doesn't seem to get hired to do the big paying gigs, you know, like Elrond's son's Bar Mitzvah or Saruman's Famous Square Dance Hoedowns. Instead we get the servants. The lower classes. The Servant Girls of Dol Amroth was one, and the latest was the Domestic Staff of the Secret Thingy, as they call themselves.

Apparently they can't admit it's a Secret F*** or they have to kill you because then it wouldn't be a secret any more. Well, doh. They need a new kinship name, if you ask my opinion. It's hard to keep the F*** a secret when your kinship name blazons to the entire world that you're a Bedwarmer of the Secret Four-Letter Word Beginning With F.

I'm not sure we should be calling them servants, either, in this modern day and age. But they are definitely non-unionised, underpaid, and poorly dressed.

Still, despite these manifold disadvantages, they know how to throw a party. The location was a little out of the way, being in the bloody middle of a bloody lake in bloody Everswim, but hey, it kept out the rabble. And, for a bunch of servants, they were a blast.

If I could remember their names I'd tell you all, but I don't, so I can't. I do remember a bobbit called something like Tuke, whose specialty was extemporising naughty poetry. We need her in BBB, for sure. Then there was the Noble Lady Jen, with a title that advertised her Hot Spot. Boy, do we have a gig for YOU, Lady Jen. BBB is always in need of extroverted ladies with Hot Spots. The Crowd Goes Wild! And no problem if you want to keep your Hot Spot a secret. We can always provide privacy screens and a blur filter for when we shoot the moving picture.

Then there was a dwarf with a name beginning with G, and the lovely lady Jorath, or Porath, or Joelene, or something like that. That was all a little embarrassing, that was. It's very lucky that Wrenaya does actually mean Jorath or Joreth or something like that, in Elvish. It really does. I did some research.

So, all in all, very many happy returns of the day to the Scrubbers of the Secret F***. Thanks for inviting BBB along. Good times were had by all.

In other news, my Fool is off on his travels again, and so I will have to miss the next few weeks of BBB shows. Oh, woe is me, say all the ladies. I know, I know. But I will return in time, somewhat exhausted from a protracted holiday at Madame Celestine's, but still (with luck) intact.

1 comment:

  1. It is going to fall off.
    Once you have whooping cough.
    Yes it is.
    Your heart will go pitter pat,
    but it will fall to the floor with a splat,
    Shame 'bout the old mole rat.