Bring me a cuppet of foaming grog! And bring me some rags to mop up the spillage! Bring me a lantern to light my way through the gruesome lanes of your gruesome village!
Bring me gas trapped inside a bulb! Bring me a pig on a platter of lead! Bring me your huddled, bring me your sick, bring me your puny and bring me your dead!
Bring me things I haven’t asked for yet! Bring me a badger torn from its sett! Bring me creatures from the bottom of the sea twitching and flapping and flailing in nets!
Bring me the kind of aftershave used by Peter Wyngarde playing Jason King! God blast you, bring me just about anything!
There is nothing that I do not crave as I sit here in my cold damp cave, banished from the palace where I sat on a divan, the potentate of my vanquished clan. We were vanquished good and proper by the Men With Whisks. It was all recorded on compact discs. They even had a backing band as they smashed each bone and skull. I can’t be sure, but I think it was Jethro Tull.
Or Hurtle Jolt? They had a flute-player as well, I believe.
Flute ~ flautist; lute ~ lutenist: something’s gone wrong somewhere along the line.
Newt ~ newt-fancier.
But I digress …
Excuse me while I tune my banjo…