It Begins

Man About Mayfair
Sir Basil Seal

Previously...I, II, & III

It Begins

On that Thursday afternoon I was out on the veranda taking my exercise, which I do each day with religious devotion to maintaining my genteel figah. I had sat down to rest a bit after my second set of martini dead lifts and lighted a Chesterfield when Weimer announced that a Mr. Lout had arrived. Show him in, my good man I said, and The Fiendish One was shown in. A wonderful man, is Fiendish, for a New Yorker, he does seem to talk rather loudly, but I suppose city people develop this habit in order to be heard over all that machinery. But I like him all the same. Like the sportsman he is he manfully agreed to join me in my daily exercise regimen, so we sat and I poured.

We were sipping our way through my rigorous program, reminiscing about our adventures in New York, mutual acquaintances, family, my wardrobe and what have you. I outlined the plan for the morrow, whereby The Fiendish One, Lord St. John and myself had been delegated to fetch Mr. and Mrs. P and their entourage from the airport. The plan calls for breaking out the T'all (yes, I have one, brought over from the "spredin' out far and wide", a 1974 1210 with the magical 393 V8 and the rare 5 speed transmission, if you were to imagine driving your house down the highway, you would just about have the complete picture. Oh, T'all is short for an International Harvester Travelall, best truck evah) and loading the guests and carrying them back, without any stops coming or going per explicit orders from you know who. Being a manly man, who like myself, enjoys doing manly things in a manly way, TFL expressed interest in my rare gem of a truck. I began to outline the history of said vehicle when:

"Do. Not. Move."

"What?"

"Remain. Perfectly. Still."

"I'm not sure I'm reading you..."

"Shhhhhh....If you value your life you will remain quiet and still."

"Well, I say..."

"Ima Knut"

"You're a Ka-nut?"

"No, no, don't you know how to whisper? Ima Knut"

"I think I'm beginning to realize that you're a Ka-nut, but what..."

"No you fool, Miss Ima Knut is walking up the path, and you do not want to meet her. Slide slowly to the floor..."

We slid, and about that time the faithful Weimer poked his oblong head out the door...

"I see sir from your prone position that you have noticed the approach of Miss Knut."

"You're quite the observant one there Weimer...Of course I noticed...You know what to do"

"Yes sir"

"This will be close, you have to buy us some time..."

"I will endeavor to do my best sir"

"Right, you go that way, we'll go this way. OK Lout, do you see that small gap in the hedge over there near the corner? We will slowly, slowly make our way to that opening. Now, follow me and stay low."

We made our slow and agonizing way toward the safety of the hedge. The Lout looked confused, as I am sure he was, but I was too busy praying that Weimer had way-laid Miss Knut at the top of the path to provide any sympathy. We finally, painfully crawled into the hedge and sat up to do a reccee...

"I say Seal, what the hell are we doing?"

"I'm saving our lives, you fool, be quiet."

"But, why are we hiding from this Ka-nut women? Is that her over there with your butler?"

"Yes, that's the demon seed herself, nice bum, you can't see it in that dress, but it's there, but the price you'd pay is way too high, and if you don't keep quiet she'll hear us and then the game's up."

"What the hell does she have on, is that a flour sack or a tent fly? Who the devil is she, does the nose come off with the glasses?"

"She's Ima Knut, and she is the head of the local TRAD chapter. She's always trying to corner me and lecture me on my wicked ways. Of course I'm a professional and don't need any help from her. Last time she cornered me I hugged her and asked her to be my mistress and she ran off crying and swearing to tell the Countess...She didn't, she fears the Countess, so she's not totally stupid, and the Countess knows I have much better taste than that. She always tries to talk me into getting her a gig at the school. I'll tell you about the school later."

"What's TRAD?"

"Traditional Romans Against Décolletage...A real pain in the arse, if you ask me. You know, no sex, no drinks, no fun and of course no décolletage, that sort of thing. Of course most of them are against décolletage because they haven't any breasts, but that's just my theory. But they flock around young handsome priests like flies...Poor fellows can't shake them off for anything. She must have got word of Father M's visit."

"Good Lord, is there any way she can get past the butler? You're not armed are you? We'll have to warn Father M about this..."

"No, she won't get past him, and no I am not armed but soon will be...Father M will be under the protection of the Countess all weekend, so he's safe. Knut won't dare go up against the Countess. Who would?

We have to make our way slowly down the hedge while Weimer keeps her busy...One of the barns is just down at the end, and we'll be safe there.

"Well, can't we just tell the Countess about it and let her handle it?"

"Good God man, I don't hate the girl that much...You don't know what you're asking. And the problem is that Knut knows I won't tell because the results wouldn't be very pretty. We'll just have to stay out of her way...I haven't the heart to sign her death warrant, along with the rest of her family...You don't know the Countess."

"Well, now what? I say Seal, you have a spot of dirt on your trousers..."

"Let's move out, the Baron's down there somewhere and he'll give us aid and succor. Yes, I noticed the dirt...The Knut has a lot to answer for..."

Comments

[Joules]

I think the Knut's cousin was my homeschooling neighbor whose children were left alone for hours a day while she researched articles for the local Catholic news rag. They always ended up at my house fighting with each other. I suppose I should have bought one of her "Bring Back the Traditional Latin Mass" bumper stickers because they were so cool, but I'm Protestant--plus, how would I explain it to my father the minister?

[Mrs. Peperium]

Even though I've been on the receiving end of Knut's superiority, I cannot recall if her automobile had a Bring Back the Latin Mass. So Joules, which would be the greater offense in your father's eyes, a Bring Back the Latin Mass bumpersticker on your car, or Crocs in the pews?

[Joules]

The bumper sticker would be somewhat incongruous to my membership in the Church of the Nazarene (but it'd look good next to my Autism Awareness magnet), so that would feed the ongoing parental perception that I'm not grounded; however, I think Crocs in the pews would indicate an offensive lack of respect for God and the house of worship. Oh, dear--my neighbor is yelling outside for me...must run.

[Mr. P]

Basil, After I read this stuff I realize I've had a smile on my face the entire time.