The Protlor was a sweet naive boy, recently plucked from underneath the floorboards and new to the realm of art. Noting his potential as an artist, spotov and verity snapped him up as their protégé. They decided to give the protégé his first show … they would promote his work, but never shy of turning anything into a performance, they would do this under the guise of the spinsisters [sic], the two insufferable Miss Gambles.
The protégé, Protlor, put on a brilliant show. The Miss Gambles were so proud of their “Dear Boy”, that they couldn’t stop shrieking his praises for a second. Gently prodding people with a finger or a walking cane to reiterate the point.
They were utterly dreadful.
It went down a storm.
Shrivelled prunes stuffed with greyed mascapone cheese, black splattered ginger biscuits and blue corn chips were brought in on a trolley. The bottle of sherry fell off and smashed which made for a very fitting entrance.
