Pip Pip, Tally Ho - Talk Like a Land Lubber

[pieces o nine]

Smashing idear! May one employ one's own mallets, Lord Pachy?

[Opsa]

Eau goodie, we're to play croquet with the queen!

[The Meromorph]

One should perhaps have one's people put one's affairs in order first...
(She's worse than C-WORD* doncherknow). 




Gently censored by the management to avoid flying mallets.

*and no, not THAT C-Word. Lord Mero would never say that.
_{Not to my face, anyway. Please don't think very long about that. Oh, I am putting my foot in it, aren't I? No, not in that. oh, help...}

[Pachyderm]

My dear Lady, the handling of one's mallet is a matter of utmost concern to all true aficionados of the game. One simply cannot let just anyone get their grubby mitts on it. A mallet must be treated with love, regularly oiled and wiped down, and only given to those you know will treat it with the respect such a fine piece deserves.

Knew a chap, Bengal Lancer he was, let anyone play with his mallet. In a very short period of time, it was in an absolutely disgustin' state, all the wrappin' comin' orf, chips and funny marks all over it. He had to give up croquet when he made the mistake of takin' it to the Worcestershire Club.

[The Meromorph]

One should perhaps have one's people put one's affairs in order first...
(She's worse than C-WORD* doncherknow). 




Gently censored by the management to avoid flying mallets.

*and no, not THAT C-Word. Lord Mero would never say that.
_{Not to my face, anyway. Please don't think very long about that. Oh, I am putting my foot in it, aren't I? No, not in that. oh, help...}

Ahh... Errrm.    Hhhhm...    Aahh...     Aahh!...

** sinks slowly to the ground, wearing a growing beatific smile, and occasionally twitching certain limbs in a disordered manner. Two husky young grooms appear, strap him to the usual 'tack rack' with silk scarves and velcro, and gently submerge him in the Monet pool to cool off for a few hours. Afternoon Tea is served. **

[DaveL]

*Peers down his nose*
*Adjusts his other monocle*
*Waves his servant to prepare a milk bath*

[Opsa]

 

[DaveL]

I hear there is a rather wild tea sitting in the garden coming up.

Are we all attending?

I hear they are lashing out with something rather wacky this year. They're called 'Cucumber Sandwiches'.

How awfully exciting!

[Pachyderm]

Ai do hope that Cook knows to cut the crusts off, and they simply must be cut on the diagonal. Can't be doing with square-cut sandwiches, don'tcher know.

[DaveL]

Ooohhh yes a completely beastly way to cut ones loaf!

Might I also add, that this years garden party will have something even more wacky than cucumber sandwiches. 

They are called 'Olives.'

[The Meromorph]

Egad! How bohemian!

[Opsa]

Perfectly swarthy! I do hope they come with little toothpicks with frilly cellophane on one end, so we don't have to actually touch them. Honestly, I might swoon.

[DaveL]

I hear they shall also have the hedges trimmed in something completely wild, wacky. 

It's callled a 'Maze'.

[pieces o nine]

One has been training up one's croquet mallets to maintain good posture, no matter how wildly exciting the match becomes.

[Pachyderm]

Where's the chappie with the Pimms? One is parched.