Should anyone venture into the flower shop today, they'd find a pile of
innocent newspapers being fiendishly attacked by demented human with a pair of sewing shears. Or at least that's what the newspapers would tell you, if you asked them and happened to be able to speak Newspaper.
The human had a slightly different opinion, namely that she needed one copy for herself, and one to put up in the shop, one to send to Mrs. Higgins, one for her father, perhaps? And of course two for 27A Wimpole Street.
Both for Colonel Pickering, of course. Just in case he should lose one.
The sign over the door contained an E made of twisted-up newsprint today, so it shared the opinion of the paper, but the sign in the window thought the other one had just gone barmy from missing a letter for so long.
Covent Garden FlowErs
*Free carnation for anyone who brings in a copy of this week's FH Times!*
Eliza Doolittle, prop.
Fresh flowers from nosegays to bouquets!
Delivery available
upon request.
[OOC: Open!]