Edmund was not sleeping at his desk this week. Oh no. He was instead studying a neatly-written list. He'd found it on his bedside table Monday morning, when he'd awakened slightly muffle-headed from dreams about needing to shop for a poufier wig to better show off his new crown, and calling off his engagement to that rosebush now that his dad had ( Read more... )

The cleaning bucket he'd almost tripped over preceded Edmund Blackadder down the stairs, but sadly his petulant kick was too wobbly to arc it the full length of the kitchen and into Baldrick's head; he settled for tossing a half-peeled potato once he reached the table, but the bonk wasn't nearly as effective ( Read more... )