psmith

His reputation tarnished by rumours that he was having an affair with the Tory shadow minister of defense, Young Betrand took to threataning the homeless with sharp tea cup handles in the wrong parts of Coventry.

"Fancy a snog with the wrong end of a jagged tea cup!" He shouted as he darted from one side of the street to the other.


Across town, Aunt Agatha was once again attempting to instruct her handmaid in the art of tea criticism.

"Something like an absurd joy began to open his mouth, he crossed his arms over his naked chest and finally gazed at us with ecstatic eyes. Martyrdom he uttered in a voice that was suddenly feeble and yet tore out like a sob. A bizarre hope of purification had come to the wretch, illuminating his eyes," read Aunt Agatha as she fondled her cane with left hand.

Her hands trembling with fear, Deadrie the handmade began to speak with fear in her voice
"I still don't understand, there is no tea in this story,"

With one swift motion Aunt Agatha struck the small cornish handmaid with her cane, "IT IS ALWAYS ABOUT TEA!"
"Reveal your backside to me you common idiot, this behaviour will not go unpunished," barked Aunt Agatha.

In the next room, Pondicherry was listening with his ear to the door in excitement. He hobbled off the pleasure himself in the back seat of Aung Agatha's Renault.
He opened the car's door and found Jeeves sitting on the seat. His pants were down and his head was covered with an old lady's undergarment.

"What are you be doing with my Panty!" shouted Pondicherry as he lunged towards Jeeves.