In an unpretentious Manor House on the better side of town, Bitchwych- the Butler/Manservant, is about to be in conversation with his Master- James. James- Your Grace, is Lord of the Manor and is quite comfortable in life and monetary matters. Bitchwych has been his faithful servant and confident for decades. Our story takes place in the space and time between Christmas and New Years. In the Library the fourteen foot tall spruce still stands, lit by more than 1000 white lights. It is quite Gay. James is seated comfortably at his walnut desk enjoying a hot cocoa when Bitchwych enters the room...
Bitchwych: Sir, is there anything else you require as I must leave only to endure the long lineups at the market before it closes.
James: Oh. No. I don't believe so Bitchwych. Such an awful ordeal you having to stand in line at the grocers with all those common folks about. I really do feel quite sorry for you. Is there not another way Bitchwych?
Bitchwych: Not if you care to eat Your Grace, over the remainder of the Holiday Season.
James: Oh right! Of Course. One must eat. Carry on Bitchwych.
Bitchwych: Very good Sir. He is about to leave the Library when...
James: I say Bitchwych, what day is this? Saturday?
Bitchwych: No, Your Grace. It is Friday. Saturday is on the morrow.
James: Not Thursday?
Bitchwych: Um. No Sir, Your Grace, Thursday was yesterday, so I presume today would be Friday?
James: Oh. Not Saturday?
Bitchwych: I don't believe so Sir. For Saturday is yet to come- a day away.
James: Oh Gosh. I must be a might twisted. Darn Holidays, they do it to me every year. Let me see if I am understanding this boondoggle. Today is not Saturday?
Bitchwych: Correct Your Grace.
James: And yesterday was Thursday?
Bitchwych: Being as today, this very day is Friday, I would have to agree with that statement Sir.
James: Then being Saturday tomorrow, it leaves me to conclude- with your remarkable assistance, that today is indeed- Friday!
Bitchwych: Alas, I tell you without reservation that this is so. We live and breathe on this very day- a Friday!
James: Well, then. ~he pauses looking into the mug holding the hot cocoa~ It is what it is.
Bitchwych: I am afraid that it appears so Your Grace. Would there be anything else before I depart for my marketing chores?
James: No, I do not believe so Bitchwych. You- as usual, have answered my query.
Bitchwych: Happy to do so Your Grace. I leave you to enjoy your afternoon and of course your hot cocoa.
James: Yes. Thank you Bitchwych. You are most accommodating as is your usual way. I appreciate your time and thoughts on the matter. I do so hope I have not wasted your time.
Bitchwych: Well Sir, if I cannot waste my time with Your Grace what indeed is the reason for continuing on or the entire Holiday Season for that matter?
James: Indeed and well said Bitchwych. Enjoy your afternoon.
Bitchwych: And you, yours- Your Grace.
With that Bitchwych left the Library and His Grace knowing fully that His Grace had not only wasted his time but now yours- Dear Reader, as well. Note to one's self. Stop watching shows produced by the BBC.
