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*Ambles in, loosens bow tie and cumberbund. Slips into aged, velvet armchair*


*Sips a G&T ... Plymouth with lime*


"Whats this? Down the side of the chair"


"Ah yes, the historic copy of Razzle with Dulwichmum's earliest attempt of fame for all to see"


"It still has the stains of Donkey lactation on it"


"Those were the days"


*Stands up, pulls grubby hankie from pocket, walks to north wall and polishes the plaque that hangs there, at a slight angle*


"In Memoriam. Mrs Dobbin. Much loved lactating Donkey of these parts. Slaughtered by Dulwichmum. Graze in peace*


"Snuffle, sob"

*enters somewhat haphazardly, having missed the doorhandle but unable to check momentum*


*right leg buckles somewhat as the left hand casts about in vain to catch the door before it swings back against the hinges with an audible crack, already several metres away by now*


*brought up handily by the chesterfield, attempts a change in direction to the louvred drinks cupboard, but sways off course, leading with the shoulder, sporting the studied intent of a man determined but failing to take another direction*


*grabs mercifully at the Ricard on the way past, captures it more by luck than judgement, and is finally laid to ground by the chaise longue with the oiled antimacassar caught in his spectacles*


*swigs once at the neck of the bottle and pours a generous eighth down the chin*


*balefully examines the other residents...*


"Thish iszh the foreighn correshpondents club?"

*Wakes up feeling somewhat stiff (not in a good way) in the comfy velver arm chair, tattered copy of Razzle in one hand, empty bottle of Port in the other*


*There is a whiff of aniseed*


"Splendid, I see Hugenut is recently back from distantly flung parts of the Empire. Smells that way."


"Morning old boy. I would offer you some Port, but some rotter seems to have swigged it all in my sleep. Why are your specs wearing a dress? Is this required in the Levant for purposes of public morality?"


"Where's Mockney's Monkey? I need a pot of tea"

*Totters over to wobbly table, pours 2 cups of exquisite coffee. Totters onwards, Moos bound*


*Hands over coffee cup. Settles beside Moos. Sits back, gazing dazedly at far wall*


"I must straighten Mrs Dobbin's memorial plaque but not now. My head hurts. Bad people in The Gowlett. Bad people"

Creeps into room steps over groggy Hughnot, jumps on his fez on the floor,kicks the wobbly table,and eats the danish whirl Citizen was saving for when he woke up,had a peek behind the door oh its Narnia cleaning the plaque.

creeps over to coffee pot and tops it up with sleeping pills.Moos snores in her chair, goes to the door an shuts it quitely,

*Stirs and opens one eye. licks finger and dabs at the crumbs of danish. hmmm...I'm sure I didn't eat all of it the other night. smells coffee. lumbers over to the machine and tops up. Eyes the bottle of JD on the counter. It's gonna be a long night.*

*what's that fluttering sound?"

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