Hello, hello! Bosie Giddy-Gaylord here! Oh what tales of decadent irresponsibility I have for you this month! In the middle of August, lords Mottsford, Boyling and Ponkleton, along with another young gentleman, a certain Dr. Moncho (by whose name I gather is a fellow from the Far East), decided to follow up an evening’s light entertainment and drinking at Ponk Plaza with a nightly stroll to a downtown pub, as females were expected to roam the scene. So, in preparation for said excursion, and to compensate for the wine they were drinking that was, without a doubt, below par, Ponkleton fashioned a “witch’s brew”, which only Ponkleton himself and Boyling were foolish enough to sample. For those of you lucky enough not to know, a “witch’s brew” is a melange of alcoholic beverages best kept apart. My sources were unavailable to obtain the exact recipe for the witch’s brew in question, and Ponkleton probably does not remember it himself anymore, but this lavish reporter knows for a fact that it contained at least gin, martini, low-grade white wine, Latvian herbal liqueur and grapefruit juice.

The result was approximately one litre of brown, sour liquid, and its effect on the two noblemen can best be described as psychedelic. So while the two dashing young fellows quaffed away, and were bouncing off the walls, Lord Mottsford sat in the sofa with a glass of cheap wine and looked on through beautiful, sceptic hazel eyes.

Soon they were on their way downtown, and en route they not only met up with Dr. Moncho, but also briefly encountered one of Lord Ponkleton’s former mademoiselles, who was startled to find her ex-cavalier and Lord Boyling in such an estranged state of mind. The night carried on and the four gentlemen spent the ensuing hours chasing women, cats and each other around town, before retreating, sans femmes, to Ponk Plaza, where they smoked the narghile and, as per the usual routine, discussed women’s nether regions until the wee hours. I think it is safe to say that the drinking did not subside upon their return.

And that, my friends, is all for now.