High up in the luxury section, among His Majesty's officers and their ladies, the delicate tinkle of wine glasses, jewelry, and quiet chit chat are in sharp contrast to the raucous din below. Even Bartholemew has his own red velvet seat and is surveying the crowd below as they jockey for good seats and bar stools. Suddenly, a particularly handsome and medal bedecked officer rises from the midst of the British officers, glass in hand. [8D] The noisy rabble in the room does not comprehend that a toast is about to be given, so Barthlomew takes charge (as is his want) and lets loose a customarily viscious alert to all....yip! [}:)] The room finally falls silent...mostly out of disbelief in the scene above.
"Officers Boggon and White! T'was a jolly good thrashing you administered to your previous opponents what what?! (female type giggling in the background) [:X] That was to be expected of course. You now have one last task before you. That is to defend the Crown and England's honor in this final contest of wills. Gentlemen, here's to your next glorious victory over these amateur "soldiers"...God save the King!"
With that, the standing officer hurls his glass in a traditional finale to the toast. Unfortunately and quite by accident of course, [;)] the glass shatters against the back of Al Amos' racoon covered head. [xx(] Bartholemew in turn, (he just <u>has</u> to do everything I do) nudges his glass off the rail, which smashes over Bill Peters' head below. [B)]
Let the games begin!...yap!
<center><font color="gold"> Brigadier General Sir Phil Natta, K.C.B.</font id="gold"></center><center><font color="red">British Army Commander-in-Chief</font id="red"></center>
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