Sir Ribald was aghast. "Surely you can't mean . . ." He trailed off, contemplating all possible avenues for what Lady Ashton was suggesting, and simultaneously reviewing all possible means by which he might extricate himself from the study as quickly as possible. A great many possibilities
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Good times.
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Dude, I'm so dead bored with laundry at my mom's today. Maybe I'll try for a little Ribald action. Not that I know where the hell I'm going with this stupid story, which is now not only stupid but dated as well. And I quite possibly have managed to get myself inextricably stuck with its supremely-campy-Brit-sitcom plot.
Yeah, so, finished with my OT rant. Of course, it's hard not to be OT when the only action on my LJ is replies to reeeally old crap-mystery posts.
::Motions to Davie with defib and summarily dies.::
Would I be out of line if I just posted, for Christ's sake?
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