The Two Faces of Temperance

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by Ichabod Temperance


  “more

  challenging

  than the

  last.”

  “We

  shall

  remove its

  cumbersome

  locks with

  a stroke of

  this battle axe.”

  ~kuh-chunk!~

  “One good,

  solid strike

  to the clasp

  should complete

  the job.”

  ~chungk!~

  “Eek! Stop there! This is the House of Lords! A monster such as you, regardless of how surprisingly comely you are, my dears, cannot attack this sanctified institution! And, might I add, you certainly may not do so whilst in such inappropriate attire.”

  “Burbity! Indeed, women are not allowed here in the House of Lords outside of royalty and we do not expect them to arrive bare-legged.”

  “Bup, bup, bup, just so, though of course, m’Lord, the fetching creature is wearing intricately patterned hosiery.”

  “Burbity, nevertheless, her legs are bared for all the world to see.”

  “Harumph. Yes, quite so, m’Lord. So too, has the traitorous female chosen to invade this sanctum in little more than her contour-enhancing undergarments.”

  “My Lords,

  your eyeballs

  bulge

  to the point that

  we fear the orbs

  shall pop from

  their

  sockets.”

  “Enjoy

  the view,

  boys, you will

  be admiring it

  for a long time

  to come.”

  “You may

  desist in

  whatever it is

  you are doing,”

  “and see

  to our

  coronation.”

  “This country

  has languished

  without a

  proper leader

  for too long.”

  “The reign of”

  “Persephones Plumtartt”

  “cannot

  arrive soon

  enough.”

  “We

  don’t want

  anymore

  obstinacy.”

  “Take it from us,”

  “your

  resistance

  to the

  inevitable,”

  “is truly

  an effort

  in futility.”

  “Now then,”

  “where is

  the former

  queen,”

  “and

  Prime Minister?”

  “We

  wish to

  hurry the

  proceedings

  with all

  due haste.”

  “You outrageous woman! This has gone far enough! This is the heart of the British Empire and you will show the House of Lords more respect!”

  “We say, this

  Parliament

  belongs to us,

  now.”

  “Do not be so

  presumptuous

  as to think this

  body of men

  could oppose

  the inescapable

  conclusion

  that we,”

  “and we alone,”

  “are destined

  to rule the

  British Empire.”

  “Imprudent

  action on

  your part

  will be your

  final folly.”

  “Westminster

  had better

  become

  accustomed

  to doing things

  our way

  in short order,”

  “eh hem?”

  “Burbity. Gentlemen, we must band together to stop this woman!”

  “Hear, hear. So too, must we put aside socially prudent ideals and appropriate the girl, manually, er, so to speak. As much as my high ideals of this Victorian Era are distressed at the concept, I feel that it is for the greater good of National Security that we must suffer the burden of laying hands on her voluptuous flesh. Harumph.”

  “Charge!”

  “We say,”

  “We

  are cheered

  to see our

  new Members

  of Parliament

  working together

  as a unified

  team.”

  “How

  dreadful,”

  “however,”

  “that you

  use this

  newfound unity

  against your

  nouveau royal.”

  “So be it.”

  “You

  Parliamentarians

  leave us

  no choice

  but to strike

  your members.”

  “Ow!” “Oof!” “Burbity!”

  “Wah-hai-ee-yiah!”

  “Ha, ha!

  That’s more

  like it!”

  “Choke on

  this procedure,

  you

  tawdry Tory.”

  “Hai-yuh-wauki!”

  “That should

  knock the

  writ out of you,

  you big Whig.”

  “Well, it didn’t

  take long to

  get our

  Houses in order,”

  “after all.”

  “There now,”

  “where is the

  former queen,”

  “and our

  Prime Minister?”

  “We wish the

  coronation

  to proceed

  with all

  due haste.”

  “Ahhhhhh-hahahahahaha!!!”

  ~ ~ ~

  “...and I say that the coming ‘Ichabod Temperance Day’ festivities should be a joyous occasion! Leave it to you, Gladstone, you contemptuous, cantankerous crank, to take all the fun out of the thing.”

  “Fun?! Who is having fun? This is a solemn occasion. This is a dark time in our country’s otherwise illustrious contributions to nineteenth century history. Leave it to you, Disraeli, to make a circus out of a mass!”

  “There is the thing, precisely! Oh, William, you do understand! The populace cries out for a happy release, but of course our perpetual, sour-pussed populist, William Gladstone, insists that we rain on everyone’s parade. In this sense, almost literally. I mean really, where is the harm in a patriotic parade, hmmm? So, one or two might end with an image of the scoundrel burned in effigy. I say, let the rabble have a bit of fun.”

  “Burning pyres the country over, piled high with images of this Ichabod Temperance fellow, eh? I should think that an annual wearing of black armbands on this date should suffice, don’t you, your Majesty?”

  “Mmm-nnn-yesss, Mr. Gladstone, I can see your point in maintaining a modicum of decorum, yes?”

  “Just so, my Queen.”

  “Mmmm-nnn-yesss, but One also sees Benjamin’s point. I suppose having a few tasteful burning effigies of the scoundrel every year is acceptable, yes, Mr. Gladstone?”

  “I think not, your Majesty.”

  “You see, Victoria, darling? The man is impossible!”

  “Hmm...”

  “Be reasonable, Disraeli, we just entertained a fireworks and effigy laden holiday with ‘Guy Fawkes Day’, less than two weeks ago. It seems to me, that such a redundancy in pyro-oriented celebrations might, in time, lose their popular enthusiasm.”

  “Oh, I doubt that very much, William. Your Majesty, let us not...”

  ~CRASH!~

  “Ahhhh-hahahahahaha!”

  “Here we

  all are!”

  “Billy.”

  “Benjy.”

  “and Vicky.”

  “Persephone, what has happened? You look, em, twice as beautiful as usual.”

  “Thank you,”

  “Benjy-”

 
“Pooh,”

  “darling.”

  “We

  feel twice

  as

  beautiful.”

  “As

  to our

  magnificent

  appearance,”

  “well,

  isn’t it

  obvious?”

  “We

  have gone

  through a

  metamorphosis.”

  “We

  are

  changed.”

  “We

  are

  evolved.”

  “We

  have

  passed”

  “through a

  chrysalis,”

  “and

  we are now

  something

  more than

  mundane

  and

  human.”

  “We

  now exhibit

  our

  extraordinary

  charms

  unabashedly.”

  “Look

  at you,

  Victoria,

  and look

  at us.”

  “Clearly,

  I am the

  embodiment

  of rule and

  command.”

  “Step down,

  woman,

  and we will

  spare your

  life.”

  “Resist us,

  at your peril.”

  “Mmm-nnn-yesss. One is witness to one’s ‘extraordinary charms’, and One is neither amused, nor impressed.”

  “What did

  you say?”

  “Do

  you know,”

  “to whom

  you speak?”

  “Mmm-nnn-yesss, One converses with an overconfident, under-dressed, two-headed débutante who needs to learn to behave herself, regardless the number of heads she is forced to wear and endure.”

  “How

  dare

  you,”

  “speak

  to us like

  that!”

  “This villainy shall desist at once. I have no doubt that you are out of both your minds at the moment. Please return when you are able to conduct yourself appropriately.”

  “No-one

  instructs,”

  “us,”

  “on

  behaviour,”

  “Madame!”

  “One has endured enough of this boorishness. Good Evening, young Lady, you are invited to leave.”

  “Very well,”

  “Victoria,”

  “you

  had your

  chance.”

  “Now you

  shall die!”

  “Oh, golly gee whillikers, don’t do it, Miss Plumtartts!No, Ma’am’s, no, please, stop!”

  “Ichabod!”

  “No, Miss Plumtartt, please don’t kill Queen Victorier! Y’all would feel awful about it later, I just know it!”

  “Go away,

  Ichabod.”

  “You

  were not

  supposed

  to be here

  for another

  thirty

  minutes.”

  “Please don’t do this, Miss Plumtartt!”

  “Why not,”

  “Ichabod?”

  “Because it ain’t the right thing to do!”

  “Ha, ha!”

  “Oh,

  that is

  cute,”

  “Ichabod.”

  “The

  next thing

  you will

  be saying

  is that

  this is a

  matter of”

  “National Security,”

  “eh hem?”

  “Well, I reckon this could be seen as a National Security... No! Dang it! Hang a bunch of National Security! I am sick and tired of everybody using that as a trump card to play. I have been jerked around by that phrase for weeks, but I ain’t kow-towing no more. I’m telling y’all straight and true Miss Plumtartt, Ma’am’s, you all just need to be good for Goodness’ sake!”

  “Ha, ha!”

  “Please, Miss Plumtartt, y’all just gotta do right.”

  “We do what we know is right.”

  “Oh, no y’all ain’t doing right, neither, and y’all know it! Y’all do so know better. Way down deep, you know. You know this is wrong. I’ve seen a lot of two-faced people, Ma’am. I’ve got my feelings hurt by folks that I thought were my pals. People will say one thing, and mean another. I’m sick of all the falsehoods and self-serving lies. Truth still has a place in the world! Doing right ain’t always easy. We are constantly bombarded with choices. Do we tell the truth, or do we fib. I want you to know that I ain’t got but the one face. I don’t know how to lie and I don’t want to learn. Honesty is the best policy. If I have to choose between truth or lies, I pick truth. I pick doing the right thing. This ain’t about good versus bad. This ain’t even smart versus stupid. This is about right versus wrong. Miss Plumtartt, you, you, just got, got, got, to...”

  “Ichabod?”

  “Ohhhh, woah, oah. Miss Plumtarttt, Plea-ea-ea-ease! You don’t want to do nothing bad! You are a good girl!”

  “Why,”

  “Mr.

  Temperance.”

  “You

  are

  overwrought,”

  “and

  emotional,

  sir.”

  “I know! I’m sorry! I can’t help it!”

  “There,

  there,”

  “Mr.

  Temperance.”

  ~sniff.~ “Hugs, Ma’am?”

  “Of course,”

  “our Ichabod.”

  “Here,

  let us hold

  you.”

  “How’s

  thi…”

  “Oh!”

  “You

  stuck us

  with a

  needle!”

  “What

  have you

  done?”

  “I’m sorry, Miss Plumtartt, Ma’am. I reckon I had to tell just a little, itty bitty white lie so I could get close enough to inject you with the antidote to your affliction.”

  “Antidote?”

  “But

  we don’t

  want an

  antidote!”

  “It’s for your own good, Ma’am.”

  “You lied to us!”

  “Yes, Ma’am, I reckon I did, I’m awfully sorry.”

  “You

  treacherous

  little

  fool! You

  traitor!”

  “You

  have betrayed

  us!”

  “Eerrnnhh...” “Eerrnnhh...”

  “Eerrnnhh!...”

  “Ohhhhhhhhh....”

  “Miss Plumtartt! She is fainting! There, I’ve got you, Ma’am. Ma’am? Miss Plumtartt? Eew. The second head is dissolving and falling away. Miss Plumtartt’s single neck is now properly centered again. Miss Plumtartt, Miss Plumtartt! Please speak to me, Miss Plumtartt! Can you hear me, Ma’am?”

  “Hello, is that you, Mr. Temperance? I say, what are we doing in Queen Victoria’s chambers? Has something of importance occurred?”

  “Oh, not so much, Miss Plumtartt, Ma’am. Nothing for you to worry about. You just relax, and I’ll explain later.”

  “Nothing for me to worry about eh? I suspect that you are putting a good face on a bad predicament, sir.”

  “There is only one face I am concerned with, and she is the one and only most beautiful gal in the world.”

  “Ah-Mmmmmmmm-Mwah!”

  The End.

  Afterword

  Thank you, my friends, for sharing in our adventures.

  Cheers!

  Your pal,

  ~Ichabod.

  The Adventures of Ichabod Temperance

  A Matter of Temperance

  (Volume One of
The Adventures of Ichabod Temperance)

  A World of InTemperance

  (Volume Two of The Adventures of Ichabod Temperance)

  For the Love of Temperance

  (Volume Three of The Adventures of Ichabod Temperance)

  A Study in Temperance

  (Volume Four of The Adventures of Ichabod Temperance)

  In a Latitude of Temperance

  (Volume Five of The Adventures of Ichabod Temperance)

  The Measure of Temperance

  (Volume Six of The Adventures of Ichabod Temperance)

  The Seventh Voyage of Temperance

  (Volume Seven of The Adventures of Ichabod Temperance)

  The Title of Temperance

  (Volume Eight of The Adventures of Ichabod Temperance)

  A Journey of Temperance

  (Volume Nine of The Adventures of Ichabod Temperance)

  available in print and for Amazon Kindle at Amazon.com and CreateSpace.com

  additionally,

  ‘A Study in Temperance’ is available in an audio version.

 

 

 


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