Originally Posted by
DenWatts:
“I am all for temperance - now, leave the gin bottle alone, or I shall have to leave you....
But - our son is growing up to be such a fine man - sweeping the streets of Walford, we need to make sure his broom has the autoimatic drift control - or send him to see the Meddling Monk
”
Oh, prithee sire, and forsooth!
*does huge drama queen act, prostrating herself (I said prostrating, not something naughty that looks vaguely similar if you squint at it) in the falling snow, soaking her crinoline in the process, grabbing Den by the ankle with an unexpectedly firm armlock*
Forsooth again, sire, I have forsook ye gin bottle, I am ye soul of temperance! Prithee do not leave your loving wife and (slightly brattish tonight actually) son - we would be adrift and forsaken here alone without your charmingly stern and sometimes decidedly camp Victorian ways