(no subject)

[alt_rabastan]

Well,

Don know wha you herd but Imn hot dead yet!

Havn a hard tim writing, hans and head are fuzy both. All thees pain potins dont help. With the writtin, I mean, coz theybe bloody fucin good in other ways.

Howd this happn again? Only remembre bits...

Rory, soz it, I mised our date, did't I? I bettre start marking, realy behin.

Comments

[alt_narcissa]

You're one to talk, Barty.

[alt_crouch_jr]

I sincerely doubt that death would contribute to my attractiveness.

Or was that not what you meant?

[alt_narcissa]

First, you're assuming I would ever refer to anyone by such an epitaph, living or dead.

But no, you egotist, I was referring to pain potions. And reactions to same.

[alt_crouch_jr]

I am an egotist? Possibly.

And he's right about pain potions: they are 'bloody fucin good' and ought to be enjoyed for all the distracting bliss they provide. Also for the licence they give one to make a complete idiot of oneself while forbidden to do anything at all useful.

That said, I have no wish to repeat that enjoyment soon again.

[alt_narcissa]

Hm. Including licence to use profanity, it would seem.

I'm sure no one would wish to require the succor they bring, dear, but they do have their uses. And not just revealing your inner idiot.

But I certainly agree that there are other entertainments that are much preferable.

A relaxing game of cards, for example. And the ladies are arriving; I must excuse myself at least for the next two to three hours.

Raz, I shall come up tomorrow to make sure that you have all you need.

[alt_lucius]

I thought to-day was your luncheon, not cards.

Am I incorrect?

[alt_narcissa]

You're quite correct, husband. I invited them here for a change.

[alt_rabastan]

Wouldnt make much a difrence, pale bastard.

[alt_crouch_jr]

Can't say they do much for your temper.