Saturday, 1 September 2018

I awoke this morning to find a guisarme buried in my door; my first thought was that it was a mere bill, albeit of a recurved and hooked sort. A secondary glance revealed the essential guisarme-ness of the polearm. Questions are arisen. Surely I am not worthy of such blatant assassinery? I shall throw a silver groat to the Bravo on the bridge this forenoon and ask his views upon my near vouging.