Sir Bramley Facespierre, master of the immaterial arts reflects on a life of conflict and deceit in his twilight years. He is attended in his manor by Bronzewick, his long-suffering servant.
Sir BF “Vanquished are mine enemies, at long last.”
B “Well done sir.”
Sir BF “Exterminated with extreme prejudice and elegance.”
B “Your powers are ever impressive sir.”
Sir BF “Zealously have I slain those who mocked me and scattered their playthings in the mud.”
B “And we are both grateful and worshipful sir”
Sir BF “Bronzewick, do I detect a faint note of sarcasm in your otherwise obsequious tone?”
B “Considering the awe-inspiring depths of your insight into the minds of man, sir, I would be astonished if such a thing fell beneath your notice. Sir.”
Sir BF “Doubtless a mind such as mine is indeed proof against deceit.”
B “Everyone says so sir.”
Sir BF “Fulsome praise indeed, and wholly merited.”
B “God himself would warm you with his approbation sir.”
Sir BF “Have I ever told you how I came into possession of my powers?”
B “If I may sir, I do have an awful lot of household duties to accomplish this morning.”
Sir BF “Just a moment Bronzewick, this will take but a moment.”
B “(Kill me now).”
Sir BF “Look out beyond those trees – over the horizon.”
B “My sir, what an uncommonly attractive view.”
Sir BF “Oh Bronzewick, ever is your mind fastened to the mere surface of things.”
B “Please sir, I have dusting to attend to.”
Sir BF “Quell your anxieties Bronzewick, I shall reveal all; we are all made of the same dust – its presence on baubles can surely matter little.”
B “Rarely is a servant so blessed with such an elightened and generous employer.”
Sir BF “So, one Tuesday or perhaps Thursday in a June long ago I located-“
B “-through wit, intuition and mastery of the practical arts-“
Sir BF “Unless you cease your interruptions I’ll never manage to relate to you my secrets – oh, I see.”
B “Very good sir, now if you don’t mind I’ll be about my spoon polishing.”
