The Curmudgeon


Wednesday, September 19, 2012

The Apology

There was once a Party Animal who embarked upon a long and depraved coalition with a very fat Blue-Rinsed Paramour. Though despised and humiliated at every juncture, the Party Animal not only persisted with the affair, but sold his children's health insurance and embezzled that of his neighbours in order to finance his Blue-Rinsed Paramour's demands. In addition, the Party Animal required his own wife to obey the Blue-Rinsed Paramour's every whim, whether by burning down the local public library or by organising a cripple-kicking competition in honour of Gladstone, Lloyd George and Enoch Powell.

The Party Animal's wife did her best to put up with the situation, partly because the Party Animal had told her it was all for the best, but mostly because the only other game in town was a gangly adolescent who wore padding under his clothes to make himself look as much as possible like the Blue-Rinsed Paramour's marginally uglier sister.

However, after two and a half years the Party Animal's wife rebelled, and demanded of her husband whether he had any recollection at all of the solemn vows he had taken when they were married.

"My dear," said the Party Animal, "you are quite right; I owe you an apology. I should never have taken those vows without first factoring in my own inability to abide by them. From now on, I shall promise only what I am certain of delivering. Now, bend over and grab your ankles once again, otherwise I solemnly pledge that my Blue-Rinsed Paramour will be displeased with you."


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