Random Stuff I've Written For the Fun of It

Master Bobblegock (Very Short Story)

A fun British type thing, just because. 

The arched windows cast night shadows on Cirventine Bobblegock as he heaved his pantaloons over his enormous buttocks. "Butler!" issued from his swollen lips. The butler came running into Cirventine's chamber in his dressing gown. "Yes, my lord?"

Cirventine smoothed the striped blue silk of his pantaloons down for the fourth time, contemplating what tiresome task to assign his butler this night. "Have a cook make me some tea and biscuits! And don't stay down in the kitchens chit-chatting like last time. Lousy behavior, that is! Should've fired you. No, come back up here snappily!" The butler jolted awake after having dozed off a little during Cirventine's monolog. He adjusted his nightcap and ran down to the kitchens to wake the cook.

"Madam, the master calls," the butler called from outside the cook's chambers. He heard a deep brumbling inside and a creak of the bed before the door came open, nearly smacking him in the face. The cook was a woman who'd been brought up in an area of the moors, where coarse heather and cloudy skies imbued themselves in her personality, especially when she'd been woken up at near midnight to make Master Bobblegock some tea and biscuits. She marched into the kitchens, the butler bumbling behind. She rooted around for some spearmint to steep in the tea for quite some time, which prompted a hiccup from the butler and a actually-would-you-mind-moving-quite-a-bit-faster-I-might-be-fired-if-you-don't. This earned him quite a death glare, but at last a tin tray with a pot of tea and bran biscuits was laid in his hands so that he might deliver it back upstairs to Cirventine.

Cirventine, meanwhile, had been trying to squish himself into the chair at the end of the long table which lay in the dining hall while simultaneously devising good speeches to fire his butler with for taking so long. Finally the butler scurried into the room and down it's length to Cerventine, who had not thought of anything interesting and gruffly said. "Fired." The butler ran out of the room shortly after while Cirventine picked up a biscuit and chewed it thoughtfully. He would be sad to let the butler go. He had provided him with amusement, and it would wear him out instructing his staff to put up posters in the town square (he would never dream of setting foot in that putrid place) and to hire someone incomepetent so he could have a laugh.