'Twas raining cats and dogs. 'Twas a night for neither man nor beast. ('Twas also a night in a time when way too many folks said "'Twas" and other stupid things like that.) 'Twas a night when Lord Beresford Bulwer-Lytton and his wife, the fat and ugly Lady Gwendoline) sat in the spacious dining hall of their castle , where they had just finished an elaborate vegetarian dinner and were discussing Lady Gwendoline's latest unsuccessful quest to find The Dragon, the latest (and, although she had absolutely no premonitions of the fate that was soon to befall her, the last) in well over a hundred such attempts over the previous two decades.
"It's
all the fault of those goddamn Americans!" sputtered Lord Bulwer-Lytton
out of the blue. "I do believe that any day now they'll have a revolution
over there and we'll lose yet another colony." "Oh, darling," sighed
Lady Gwendoline, "who cares what those savages do? Let me tell you
what I discovered after I met the evil Wizard of NIMBY and the noble Knight
of WYSIWYG (pronounced "WYSIWYG")."
"Well, my dear Gwen, do get on with it," said Lord Bulwer-Lytton,
"as I've got to take a healthy dump right now. All those veggies
give me the runs. Tomorrow I'm going to order that goddamned cook
to fix a great huge slab of beef, so I don't have to keep dashing
off to the john minutes after dinner every goddamn night." "But,
dear Beresford," whined Lady Gwendoline, "I positively MUST tell you what
happened when the WYSINWIGs (pronounced "WYSINWYGs")
attacked
the WYSIWYGs on the Plains of Somerset! Can't you hold it for just
a bit longer?"
..... "Not another goddamn F-in' minute," cried Lord Bulwer-Lytton (this 'twas also in a time when folks "sputtered" and "cried" and "sighed" and "whined" and "moaned," not just "said" stuff), and dashed off to the john, leaving Lady Gwendoline alone in the dining hall, where she suddenly farted, loudly and resoundingly, moaned, "Oh, shit!" and collapsed on the floor.
Upon
his return from the john two hours later, Lord Bulwer-Lytton found the
dead (but still fat and ugly) body of his wife. Just then a servant ran
in shouting, "M'Lord, the peasants are revolting!" And Lord Bulwer-Lytton,
still emotionally reeling from his discovery of the dead, fat, ugly body
of his wife, simply sniffed, "Yes, aren't they? And they stink, too."
And his servant also sniffed and said, "And something sure stinks in here, too, M'Lord."