Green Room Drabble....

Scene: The Green Room

 
          
               The Author arrived at the appointed hour to find her cast of Navy and EITC sailors already assembled, but looking aggrieved.  Is everything all right?

James spoke up.  “Good day to you, my lady.  Now, while we do appreciate the accommodations here, I’m afraid there’s been grumblings about the food.”

            What?  It’s sushi!  I ordered from the best place in town!

            “It’s bait!” shouted a voice from the back.

            James turned to shout at that anonymous voice.  “I SAID, I would HANDLE this.”  He turned back to the backside of the monitor glass.  “Madam, you have seen to our creature comforts excellently well, but we do feel that, in this particular case, there has been an oversight.  This fish is a bit undercooked.”

            It’s raw.  It’s sashimi.  It’s Japanese, and it’s supposed to be that way.

            There was a general outcry at this response.

            James tried to be conciliatory.  “Ah.  Now, I realize that, to you Americans, the rest of the world is, in fact, one multi-colored blur, but we are English, not Japanese.”

            There was a pause.  You’d prefer blood pudding, I suppose.

            James beamed, as if some accord had been reached.  “Yes, exactly.”

            Or haggis?

            “A bit Hibernian, but that would do nicely.”

            You know, I’ve never been really clear as to what goes into a Spotted Dick…

            James looked affronted.  “It’s a PUDDING, with CURRANTS.”

            “Now gentlemen…” sneered the voice of Cutler Beckett, as he entered the room with Caroline on his arm.  “We do not wish to seem provincial before the American…”

            “Really, you ought to try it.  It was quite good.”  Caroline tried to mend the breach.

            “You can’t possibly be serious…” started James.

AAAAAAAAAGH, cried The Author.  Fine.  Japanese is off the list.  I’ll get Indian, next time.  OK?   

            Caroline again tried to intervene.  “We really do appreciate the effort you’ve made…”

            PLACES, everyone, or so help me God this turns into a “Desperate Housewives” crossover fic.

            There was no more discussion.

Firefly Filk....

Tom Smith is made of awesome. That is all.


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18th century London and early celebrity culture

There's an interesting article in tomorrows NYT Style section on 18th century English tabloids.

Before Lindsay or Paris, There Was Mrs. L_fle