"The Viscount"

Viscount Vincent: "A strip-tease is what I have in Mind!  Fleceania, 
open your blouse and let out your time!"
	Fleceania, dressed in black, twisted lip with a dark shine 
in her eye and began to pluck hole from button.  One.  Two.  Three.  
She slipped blouse over head, revealing thin black lace, and took a 
pace towards him.  "Colonel".
	The Viscount nervously nibbled at the gold braids at his 
shoulder.  His Lettuce & Tomatoes jiggled at his chest: one for Victor, 
one for Valor, one for Priggish Wit.  
	"Fleceania, you move me to tears of bitterness.  Booby!  Booby!  
Bring me the tip of a rhinoÕs horn, the cock of a tiger, all mashed into 
one-- in hot water 
please".  
	Booby beat it, fleet footed and hunched.  His muscles bulged in 
his tuxedo, and his hunch was shiny tight against the coat back.  "Mmmm", 
was all he let out.
	"He was looking at my boobs", said Flecaenia.
	"Let him.  I canÕt pay him".  He sipped his wine and left it on 
his lips to make his smile the redder.
	"You are a thin lipped boob, General".
	"No matter, no matter-- Flecaenia, come here".
	"But Vincent, the drink!"
	"I canÕt wait.  I want a little nibble-- just auderves de soft 
palate".  
	Her spiked heels stroked the floor, which squirmed and squeemed 
under her.  Spike.  Spike.  Spike, went her heels.  Tac.  Tac.  Tac, went 
the floor.  There were the jiggling bells of the ViscountÕs fruit salad.  
	"But doesnÕt the General want to wait for the southern armies?".
	"Send in the lancers!  Mount up!  WeÕll stake their horses to the 
ground, before the infantry comes up.  Hill One.  Hill Two--and climbing!  
Booby!  Little Booby come here!"
	Booby bore a silver platter on hand and hump, and climbed into the 
room with monkey feet; on top a giant protuberance in red and gold: a flagon, 
thin and smoking. "SirÉ" BoobyÕs lip dropped, his droopy fish-eye cool with 
scorn.
	"Mmmmm, let me try, Pooky", cooed Flecaenia, "ItÕs so tall and deep 
and smells like potatoes and lobster and teeth.   Mmmm, and goes down like 
heat-- Oh! Just a little more sweets.  It builds my strength."  Before he 
could speak she had drained it all.  A little tickling began, deep down 
between her legs.  An acorn of sex was quaking in lace.  
	"Oooo!" she let out a giggle, as it tickled her legs.  She scratched 
and swatted at her skirt which was raised and green from which an oak branch 
shook and stood and kept coming. 
	Vincent suspected treachery, and Booby just stood there gaping, as a 
full oak shook out from between her legs, the leaves bristling and shaking.  
Flecaenia, laughing and screaming, "Timber!  You are felled!" atop the oak 
which came crashing down on the ColonelÕs head.  While high and on top waived 
Flecaenia gleaming and glowing from the healthy outing of her leafy show.  The 
oak wore her like a dashing cap, and grinned woodily, "Hello!"