"Sir, you presume too much. Begone!" He swirled his bathrobe at me.
I sighed. "Jax, man..."
"King Jacksonia, Duke of Pineville and Protector of South Charlotte!"
"You're hallucinating, dude."
"Guards! Remove this wastrel."
"Okay, fine. I'm leaving. But I'm calling tomorrow and bringing you some help." I headed for the door.
Jackson laughed, waving his toilet-brush scepter. "No, not too roughly. He was once a friend. And now, let the joust begin!"
I closed the door and shrugged. My arms tingled with the touch of gauntleted hands. I was absolutely certain I did not hear anything like a whinny inside.
The Shoveller Of Widdecombe Ditch (Trad.)
4 hours ago