Cousin Bunty is up before the College beak for spying. Aunt Emilia blames me, per Bunty for ‘marinading him in socialism’. I had to ask Banter what that meant – something to do with stews. Bit of a dampener, mind as I planned on taking Bunty to Flousy O’Toole’s engagement to that Russian cad, Tellim Minesorf. Still espionage is a bit rum. Didn’t think he had the brains.
Champers delivery today. Despite Banter saying it needed rest like some heroine with an attack of the flimflams, I tried a glass; tasted like Nanny’s cure for gastric nibblets.
Called Bunty. The Jolly Rozzers have seen the Dean. Poor old snout is full of the woes and wobbles. Have to ask Banter about it.
I’ve been threatened. Aunt Emilia pounced on me while I was having a crafty cigarillo with Dusty Wardrobe. Told me if I didn’t sort out the Red’s in Bunty’s head, she’ll tell Pater I’m yellow and things will be blue of me. Feels like I’d been battered by a rainbow. Banter make me his secret After-Aunt pickmeup and promised to sort things out. Off to the club to nurse a migraine and a Strathisla ‘32.
A good day. Flousy’s broken it off with Minesorf who’s scarpered without a word. Didn’t dare ask what it was she broke.
Tried the well-rested pop and it slid down like an oiled oyster. While supping the fizzy nectar Banter said Bunty’d been exonerated. Sounded nasty, like what Flousy did but Banter explained. Seems the chump had a tryst with the delectable Millicent Fitzanyone, helping her decline in Latin. But he chose the wrong door, found Minesorf with some dastardly type and conclusions were erroneously jumped to. Millie confirmed the plan and Bunty’s off the hook.
This piece is in response to the latest Microcosm prompt, write unto 300 words with a spy, a university and a diary entry