Past Imperfect

Past Imperfect – #290

Butler: “Madame, will you be requiring any more of my services this evening?”

Greta: “Really, Mauritz? Does it look like I’m satisfied with how this night has been going?”

Butler/Mauritz: “Well, you do seem a bit ‘Jerry Springer’. How may I assist?”

Greta: “Let’s start with this unlit candle. Why is it not bathing me in a glow of angelic beauty?”

Mauritz: “I shall attend to that immediately, and fire the Candle-Maintenance Wench.”

Greta: “And this empty bottle of perfume? How am I to anoint myself with erotic aromas that will drive men wild? I am dissatisfied when suitors do not succumb to my wafting essence.”

Mauritz: “Duly noted. The Scent Wench will be dismissed as well, thrown into the street so that she may wallow in the ineptitude of her failures.”

Greta: “Good answers so far, Mauritz, and I applaud your willingness to destroy the lives of others on the slim chance that I may keep you employed for another day. But there is one final question.”

Mauritz: “I cannot begin to tell you how much I relish the next query.”

Greta: “What the hell happened to my hair?”

Mauritz: “But Madame, you demanded that I never speak of that incident again.”

Greta: “Incident? My life is one wretched incident after another. Of which incident do you speak?”

Mauritz: “The one where your hair ended up looking like that.”

Greta: “Are you being intentionally obtuse? You know I find it annoying when servants defy me.”

Mauritz: “Quite the contrary, Madame. I know that defiance makes your tingly parts resonate.”

Greta, squirming a bit: “How dare you say such a thing! Do it again.”

Mauritz, slipping out of his butler jacket: “You have been very naughty, treating your servants like beastly animals with base desires and forbidden needs.”

Greta, unbuttoning her blouse: “What are you saying? That I need to be taught a lesson? But who is left on my quickly-dwindling staff that can make me pay for my sins?”

Mauritz, hurling aside his cufflinks in a dominant manner: “There’s at least one beastly animal around here that’s still getting a paycheck.”

Greta, leaping up and racing toward Mauritz: “Take me! Take me now, you swarthy underling.”

Mauritz, holding up a hand: “Before the lesson begins, there is one thing we must discuss.”

Greta: “Fine, I’ll give you a raise, whatever it takes. My candle needs to be snuffed!”

Mauritz: “This is a repeat of the very incident you forbade me to discuss. Are you sure your hair can take another round of primal rutting? It looks a bit worse for the wear. And since you’ve already had me fire the Hair-Straightening Wench, there’s no one on standby who can tame that mess before your meeting in the morning.”

Greta, pausing: “Oh, that’s a good point. It wouldn’t do for me to show up at the Puritan Matriarchs of Berlin Breakfast looking like I was plundered in a barn. Perhaps we can try this again tomorrow night?”

Mauritz: “Excellent idea, Madame. I’ll add an appointment to the calendar on my cellphone. Have a good evening.”

Greta: “Oh, wait. Before you retire, could you have someone send up some fresh batteries?”

Mauritz: “But you had me fire the Appliance-Maintenance Wench last Tuesday when things stopped vibrating at a very inopportune time.”

Greta: “Now is not the time to be defiant, Mauritz. The rutting may not be an option at this point, but I still need to take the edge off before I face the Puritans in the morning. Just take care of it.”

Mauritz: “Will do. Night, Nasty.”

Greta: “Night, Beastly.”


Originally posted in “Crusty Pie” on 08/06/15 and “Bonnywood Manor” on 12/15/15. Considerable changes made, including an extended ending. And yes, I realize that some of you are anxiously awaiting the rest of the 3-Word Challenge entries, but I’m not yet satisfied with the work-in-progress intros for the remaining pieces, and I had to dip into the archives and focus on something else for a bit.


12 replies »

  1. That ‘do was recently seen in a really bad French film (not a NAUGHTY one, it was just so poorly written that even in a foreign language, you could see people falling out of their seats, soundly asleep). It perched upon the pate of the heroine of the story, a immensely stupid woman who appeared mystified that her life had exited stage left, even though she (apparently) never ever did anything IN her life except moan about being “old” (fifty. sheesh). Her hair (or Greta’s – a mystery to be solved by someone interested in the hirsute and untidy) rejected any attempts to tame it, IT had a life, even if it’s owner did not. I was just grateful the woman didn’t work in food preparation, because strands of that unruly mess will pop up in the entree (like cat or dog hairs) and make the consumer barf their faux beef bourguignon. With requisite Pinot Noir wine of course. Red always goes with beef… I got off track. Back to the hair that ate dusty movie stars and those who try futilely to emulate the ‘real’ ones (not Greta. Greta WAS a star..despite her unruly curls) Maybe Greta needs to hire her another Wench of the Art of Hair Taming because Greta’s hair is the reason she’s not getting her candle snuffed more often. Or so I suspect.

    Liked by 1 person

    • And now I have an intense yearning to peruse this foreign hair film of which you speak. It sounds like it could be diverting, cheesy fun. I don’t mind watching such mess as long as I’m aware that it’s a mess when I plop on the couch…

      Now, back to Greta. She really was poorly treated by the wardrobe and makeup people responsible for the aesthetics of this scene. Hopefully she had them fired as well…


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