Such agility, such grace… such steroid usage? I wonder: have I been sedentary too long? Should GB show these young buns what what?

ATTN: Self.

Herewith is a list of MOST Urgent and Required tasks to Accomplish. Most immediately!

• Respond to that ponce, Pliny. Hrumph!
• Acquire three dozen pheasants, twelve large casks of gutterwine, four ounces caviar, seventeen wheels of gouda, twenty-four lettuce heads, fifty carrots (w/attached greens).
• Inquire after Hibiscus’ availability for picnic next week.
• Tidy the rocket (a lady does not take a dirty rocket).
• File flight plan… to the MOON!

Last evening, the most Appalling and Horrific turn of events unfolded, gentle reader!

Late the morning, just after my second breakfast of fine grasses and faeces, a toady little messenger arrived at my stoop. Please do not think I am being racial, he was LITERALLY a toady little messanger. I have MANY toad friends, and would never think of using that as an epithet. *Ahem* Where was I?

The letter was printed on the most sublime stock of paper, scented just so with a hint of honeydew and marigold. It read:

Why? Why!

How I long to see you again, how my tail feathers simply tremble at the thought of your embrace. Do pop ’round the villa nearish supertime and take me for a stroll?

All my fidelity,

~ Lady J. Featherbottom

P.S. I would not be opposed to a slight trinket of jewels to demonstrate your affection!

I was beside myself with excitement at the possibilities of strolling with this lovely creature under the glow of La Lune. So I pipped off immediately to the local bank to withdraw my mother’s PRIZED pearl strand from the vault. What good, after all, are wonderful heirlooms without a lovely bird to share them with?

Well ’round 7, I pipped over to her estate. Dressed in my most impressive suit of brown cut velvet (ermine trimmed, of course) and black patent boots, I looked every bit the dashing gentleman. What my stately look did not convey, however, was that my HEART was going one million beats per second – just ready to explode at the sight of my one love.

Sir William Plumenom

But folly, folly! As I approached the gate, I saw Sir William Plumenom gently caressing my lover’s UNGLOVED wrist, before whispering in her ear. She let out the same musical laughter I thought belonged only to me, and waved him well as he took off.

From the top-floor window, I saw Duke Tendertoes surveying the scene. With a smoking pipe between his teeth, and the sash of his silk bathrobe cinched tightly, I could almost see him laughing at my predicament. I stormed off quite immediately, that hussy Featherbottom’s cries of my name wafting in the ill late-spring wind.

Oh what to do, what to make of these events?! I am simply Crestfallen and Shocked at the likelihood I’ve been cuckold!