Murder in the Great Hall

[davedove]

After a short time, Mr. Wompet walks back into the room, sulking.

Mr. Dove returns shortly after.

“I have locked Mr. Panache’s body in a room so that no further damage or indignities will be inflicted upon him.” He glares at Mr. Wompet.

Ms. Griffin walks over to Mr. Dove and whispers something to him. He nods in understanding and turns to address the guests.

“Ms. Griffin has just informed me that Mr. Panache has requested that his will be read as soon as all those named in the will can be assembled, no matter what the circumstances. Since everyone is here today, we will do just that shortly. But first, perhaps we should have a short memorial service. Does anyone have anything to say about our departed friend?”

[davedove]

GENERAL CHATTER

Please make comments about the dearly departed.

[The F-H.C.A.G.]

All present should please forgive me.....








I am going to break down now.








I know this has never been seen before....















O.K.








I'm done now....








Be well,

[Coemgen]

Slowly slinking from his corner by the fire, and only after a great Homeric effort, almost completely draining his mental faculties, Coemgen resurrects the ancient ghost of a memory of an appropriate phrase he accidentally read once, when he inadvertently bought a Latin phrase book instead of Drinking For Professionals; this phrase is one of the few things of any value which he had somehow managed to retain in his mind, and which is only just barely remembered:

De mortuis nil nisi bonum dicendum est.

He then realises he's said something good, and ashamedly hurries back to the fire.

[Clockwork John]

Quickly scribbles down Coemgen's words, along with a note to buy a Latin/English dictionary

Mumbling to myself, this evening is getting more and more interesting. This story will be worth a fortune.

[Pleater]

Ah the value of a classical education.

Though it was some time ago.

Of the dead, nothing but what is good should be said.

Hmm.

Well.

I'm thinking.

[vmac3205]

He was always sartorially exquisit.

(having said something good about our nearly departed, Vmac returns to the wall to watch and take note.)

[Wompet]

A finer man, a more noble companion on two legs has never lived.
'though he did treat me like a dog, sometimes - 'Would you like a biscuit, Wompet?' he'ld say in that charming tone of his.
Mr. Wompet pulls a bone-shaped biscuit out of a pocket and absentmindedly bites off a piece. He then waves around the rest of it for emphasis.
And that endearing way he always called pink "maroon" - 'Fetch me my fuzzy maroon slippers, Wompet.'
*Sigh*

Wompet wanders through the crowd, leaving a trail of biscuit crumbs, which are cleaned up by a folowing Mr. Tibbles.

[davedove]

End chatter

[davedove]

“Very well, if we are all finished, Ms. Griffin, would you please read the will?”