Drinking night.
I had to get out of the house this evening. Dumelet nearly took my eye out with his bottle and Senga is overly protective of him. I told her, there's no need to protect him but every need to defend yourself from him but she refuses to listen.
So I spent the evening at the Throat and Razor. The locals were as quiet as usual, barely a word spoken above a whisper and most of the intelligible ones involved pitchforks and flaming torches. They must be planning another parade. It's been a while.
Several pints of Jock McSquirty's Bowel Purger later, I headed home to find that Dumelet had escaped his cot and eaten everything in the house apart from Senga who had a few bite-sized pieces missing. She was distraught which wasn't so bad, considering that if Dumelet had found her before he found the fridge she'd be joining Father in the dungeons. Somewhat inebriated, I still managed to corrall the miscreant with a sharp pike and a net. He is now back in his cot with added barbed wire and the wire-cutters he fashioned from discarded jawbones have been confiscated.
Senga will require a bit of filler in the holes and a long discussion on the dangers of over-indulging a Dumelet, plus some painkiller in the form of her favourite drink, Broken Glass.
It's not safe to leave these two alone. Senga does not appreciate the risk of being nice to a Dumelet and she might end up spoiling him. That would be terrible.
If the villagers have that parade, I might let her take him out to see it. It would be worth watching.
