I'm vaguely aware of the employment system in the bloody place, but I refuse to consent to this. What is wrong with them!? Surely I'm better suited for something higher than...than a blasted waiter!

I'm fucking England! I used to be an Empire! I don't serve! This is madness! If I find out who's sick joke this is I'll rip their bloody head off ( Read more... )

[Arthur is standing in his front yard glancing around him as if he's looking for something.]

I can't hear them, see them. Where did they go? There's no way those bastards took this from me.

...Perhaps they just can't follow me here. That must be it.