Things here have been so very peaceful today. The sun shone, the light cast down upon this humble residence, alone with my thoughts, and my little dog, Ronnie Barker. Then, into the garden, a serpent did come. It was her: "the wind from the north", the evil step-mother. With a venemous forked tongue she spat forth her lacertian acidic verbosity. Not a good word said. Not one. Father was philosophical, calm, as was I. Yet I am this close to biting her head off (metaphorically). I am about to tackle the washing up, and should she lay into me again, verbally, I shall either bark and growl as my dog, or, more likely: switch into Sergeant Major mode. I will tell her, how it truly is, and not like the Buddha, but like a Warrant Officer Class Two, when I held such a rank. Oh yes, it is so on. She has disturbed the family peace and I am about to explode. One has no idea how ... retaliatory I can be, if attacked. She has stirred a whirlwind so strong, she knows not what she is about to encounter, a storm, the likes of which the world has never seen. In thunder, and in earthquake, like a Jove. You may attack me, but beware, for what a realm I preside over: that is, the peace of my fathers home. My sisters have weighed in against her, and now, the evil witch knows not what manner of beast she shall unleash in me, and my family. Blood. Kin. Fraternity.
Not physical, that would be most unbecoming of an English gentleman, but instead, I will show her what I am made of. Time... to test mettle.Peace be with you, and let no-one disturb your friendship bonds of family.
Maximus Fleximus.
Post-Script: Thankfully the washing up was done and the entire time the "wind from the north" was gassing on her phone. She had better be. All was resolved amicably, thankfully. I am sleeping outside in the shed tonight as I cannot stand sharing a roof with that harridan. Peace prevails. Thank God.
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