CHAPTER SEVEN
With his feet resting upon his reproduction King Louis XIV desk Arthur rubbed his tummy, burping he held his hand over his mouth, “Excuse me,” he said.
“Why, what have you done?” asked Sid.
“Burped.”
“As long as that’s all then you’re excused,” replied Sid.
“I must say, you are cheeky Sidney, you must use your manners you know. Are you not versed in the formalities of etiquette?”
“Ye don’t have to be so polite when you’re 500 feet below ground hacking ore from the minute rock faces.”
“The Small Faces?”
“You cannae have always been so polite. I don’t believe people in ancient Camelot said please, thank you and excuse me after burping.”
“I do not say please, thank you and excuse me after I burp, just excuse me.”
“Well I do if I am in mixed company.”
“Really? You mean the fairer sex?”
“No, I mean gnomes and elves. Elves are right prissy if you are impolite. They’ll take your ears off if you fail to say please, thank you and excuse me in the right order.”
“So if they say thank you, please and excuse me they’ll have your ears off?”
“Right.”
“Well I have never once seen Alf try to take your ears off when you have burped in front of him without even a whisper afterwards.”
“It’s the high and flighty elves you have to be careful of. He’s just a jumped up wood elf.”
YOU ARE READING
The Detective One
Science FictionThe Fifth book in the Arth Series. Arthur and the rest are cooped up in the cowboy/detective dimension. Mr. White-not-Black has been murdered and they must find the culprit. Yes it is supposed to be funny.
