Simper

A silly smile played across her lips as she harshly coughed up her cucumber sandwich. Here she was alone in the garden with the books approved by her teacher. And such good books they were-by a famous German philosopher, no less! Samantha raised her eyebrow playfully, knowing full well that she was not only a woman of beauty but of wit. She wasnt like Barty reading about old Soapcrates and Haristotle. She afforded a laugh to ripple across her lips in a matter that might have sounded bubbly on a normal person but sounded choked and forced due to the immense constraints of the corsets cracking several of her ribs. No, Samantha Tennsworth had no time to read about the ramblings of Greek hairdressers and soap deliverers: she was on the rise. As she started scanning Schrdonners Treatises: On Sewing, Knick Knacks and Hobbies for Useless People, her mind wondered on the recent revelation that she had several lovers at her beck and call in her small township of Leeston-Upon-Blegdy-Underneath-Beckdon. Firstly there was Ned Clarence, a local rich boy and the son of a wig maker, a valuable position considering the past twelve outbreaks of ravenous lice in the town. Ned was a good man who always had a great witticism on hand when it came to tea and several ivory teeth obtained from India. When he smiled, the brilliance would dazzle Samantha until she fell on the floor in amazement. The bright flashing light seemed to amaze her father as well, as he always flopped around on the floor screaming and groaning for quite some time when he saw it. Father, always such a delight! Sure Ned had some faults: he had one lazy eye too many and was often fond of taking his sister to the settlement reserved forthwith for pounding, but incest and general ugliness had not stopped the majority of nobility from reproducing and it certainly wasnt going to stop Samantha anytime soon. Then again there was Mr. Larsy. He was a fine man, with stern eyes and arguably the best muttonchops in all of town. He was fond of being emotional and passionate, talking at length about the great mores of mankind while she quite sensuously ate cucumber sandwiches and laughed at birds. He could sometimes be a little too emotional; for example, Samantha was raised on the principle that if the waiter offers you jelly filled scones instead of chocolate filled tarts, the proper response should not be to light a dog on fire and kick it to death in the middle of the ballroom. Everybody agreed that according to ceremony the waiter should have been in place of the dog, but Samantha had honestly preferred it to the boring music. Anything with only four chords was bound to be unsuccessful, according to her. Still, Larsy could be forgiven. After all, he was rich and his sister was fat. Perfectly good reasons to kick the elderly down the stairs of ones

mansion, thought Samantha. There was also Captain Woorsforth, who was attractive edgy and riddled with consumption, but when Samantha mouthed off he only slapped her lazily with only one hand, if even that. Samantha couldnt save he maidenhood for a man who was even motivated enough to give her a solid crack in the face at the ballroom over a lusty affair with a peasant. She would loose all her reputation at the Ladies Tea and Chat Society for sure. Still, she was content as she tucked the book into her satchel. Either way it was going to be one amazing summer at Leeston-Upon-BlegdyUnderneath-Beckdon. She limped away, her corset cutting off circulation to her limbs. Across the garden Barty sat with legs crossed, The Prince laying in his legs. He hated the women in this fucking century, he thought to himself: still, at least he had enough opium to get through another fucking cucumber social.