"The constable returned to the room with Charlie's cane, which had been left on the side of the road and was, by now, quite dusty. "Sorry for disturbing" he meowed. "

"By now, Sir Roger had gotten the senile tramp dressed, and placed him in front of a mirror. Charlie grasped his cane, and began to regale his reflection with some of his best silent routines. "He'll stay there for hours," Sir Roger said"

"Miranda finally squirmed out of Lady Catherine's all too uncomfortably close embrace and rearranged her pajama top so it once again covered those small swelling charms which had inspired Lady Catherine to engage in that uncomfortably close hugging."

""Ah! There you are, my darling wife," a scratchy, aged voice said behind Miranda. "Drat, 'tis my husband, William, the Earl of Sherwin," Lady Catherine said. "And he is just old enough to be my grandfather.""

"Sir Roger stifled a small giggle, knowing that Lady Catherine was unaware that she had married her own grandfather whilst all the townpeople were completely aware and had to spend much of their time stifling giggles."

"The aged Earl of Sherwin was quite unaware that he was the father of Lady Catherine's mother. She had been born after a short assignation after the Earl's first wife died and he married his second wife. Lady Catherine was wife #4."

"Sir Roger did some quick calculations on a scrap of paper and realized that the Earl of Sherwin's first wife was actually the daughter of his mother's third husband which meant that he was his own second cousin."

"As the Earl left the room with Lady Catherine, he turned and said, "Miranda, The Royal Twins, Princesses Stephanie and Mary, request you their quarters." A smile crept across her face as she hurried to the royal teens rooms."

"Sure enough, the twins had spilled their piggybanks out across the bed and not only were there glorious quarters to roll in, but luscious dimes, delightful nickels, and indescribably cool pennies."

"Meanwhile, Sir Roger had gone down to the taproom, and taken a large mug of ale. Sitting there with Finster, he asked, "Am I a cad? Lady Catherine called me one today. Do you think I am?""

""Yes, officer, this is exactally what it looks like I am having sex with this sheep," Don said, not missing a beat, "but I'll have you know that I married her last week.""

"Finster shrugged his shoulders and spoke in a kind way to Sir Roger (who he didn't especially like) saying, "I don't think you are a cad, sir, because you do not have sex with sheep and in my book that's what a cad is.""

"Sir Roger shook his head. "They call me a cad because I like to sleep with the ladies-in-waiting. So I've impregnated three or four. Maybe five." His stare at Finster was sorrowful. "But I've left your sister, the spinster, alone."

"Don sat up, intrigued. "Finster's sister the spinster? Was it not she who gave me that blister after I kissed her?""

"Sir Roger pushed Don back down and with a long glance down his nose at the reclining man said, "You deserved to get a blister, mister, after you kissed Finster's spinster sister, although tis true few men can resist her.""

"Don pushed Sir Roger off him. "And who was it that gave you that blister, mister? I agree with whoever called you a cad. You don't even know how many ladies-in-waiting you knocked up. I know how many I have. Four."

""Oh, it's a numbers game, is it?" Sir Roger scoffed, then whipped out his abacus, making little beads sing while he chanted the multiplication table until finally, exhausted, he threw down his abacus and said, "Top that, math boy!""

"Immediately, Finster put whipped cream, chopped nuts, a split banana, some crushed pineapple and a cherry on the abacus. "There! I topped it. Now I dare you to eat it.""

"Sir Roger whirled his cape around him and looked out the tall multipaned window, out to where softly falling flakes of snow were gently carpeting the grounds of his extensive estate in a layer of thick white fluffy frozen ice crystals."

"There comes a time in the life of every entity, be it person, place, or thing, when it's energy has peaked, it has achieved it's greatest moment and now must fall back down into the source, into that great oblivion that both creates and devours."

"Sir Roger had just reached that point. He decided it was time for a vacation. Finally, a chance to use up his frequent-fighter miles!"

"He just wondered if he should take a 15-year-old, or go for the more experienced 16-year-old."

"As luck would have it, Sir Roger was assigned a 57-year-old pilot and he made no delay about letting his doubts be known: "I admire your experience, but do you have the quick reflexes and alert demeanor of a teenager?""

""Aye, sir, I do," the 57-year-old pilot said, his voice a deep, rumbling baritone."

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