Don't toss me into the same basket as my Arkansas cousins... You don't want to be a bride in one of those weddings...Pretty soon I will be an "adopted" member of the extended Tree family
Tree
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Cruxton Abbey
- Thread starter Wragg
- Start date
Tree
After being crucified one can excuse such confusions. Goodnite, all
Tree
Tree
cxslave
Chain Slave
I had to do it!Now I have you thinking that everything I say has a double meaningWe had better stop this or Wragg is going to get pissed at us for hijacking the thread
I definitely don't want Wragg pissed at us!
What a horse!Seems Tree and the boys won't get away with it after all! Now that the dowagers here things are sure to be whipped into shape...
See, Cx, all your troubles on the 'Rebellion' thread - if only you'd had a horse!
HI HO TRIXIE, AWAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAY
View attachment 142996 ..... the horse saves the day
View attachment 142997 .... isn't she so sweet?
Hee hee, the joys of writing on Crux Forums
Bring a new element into the story and Barb's right in there with her sexy pics
Now I have you thinking that everything I say has a double meaning
Wragg is not often pissed
And never pissed off by thread hijackers!
RacingRodent
Consul
the judge is hoping he will met atterney Tree...............sign the death warrant for the damsels
logical with the old oak, waiting for a mistake to punish you
Wragg is not often pissed
And never pissed off by thread hijackers!
Hear that everyone?....license to hijack here......
...and away we goSorry, been watching....
... too much very late night tv .... me standing in front of some of the surviving paneling of Cruxton after ther fire?
with these handcuffs I thee wed...
that old farmer?with these handcuffs I thee wed...
groom ? Bride?that's what the groom says, not the bride!
it's enough to drive me completely mad
The Earl had looked into his rear view mirror and been heartened to see that no pursuit appeared to be materialising, although he was puzzled by what appeared to be a rodeo going on outside the Abbey. He’d decided to have a go at getting the car up a gear or two, especially as the engine temperature was already rising dangerously. He’d thought he’d risk going straight to third…
He’d pressed the left pedal, pulled the gear stick into neutral. What was it Tree had done? Let the clutch up, when the engine sounded like….that, clutch down and into gear. He let the clutch back in, the gears engaged with a click, and the car positively purred to be in a better gear. “YES!!!” he called out in triumph, then yanked the wheel left, then right, as the car lurched off and back onto the drive around his mother’s carriage, trotting in the opposite direction.
That was a close one! He shot through the gate, and wrenched the Rolls around onto the Rattington road, for which he was rewarded by a shaken fist from a farmer on his cart.
Should he be allowing his mother to head towards the dangers of Cruxton Abbey? Possibly not, but the best service he could now do any of them was to get to the police station in Rattington as quickly as possible.
The only other casualty of his slightly erratic drive into Rattington was the morning post, scattered to the four winds as the postman had thrown himself onto the verge as the Rolls had come round a bend on the wrong side of the road.
Soon he saw before him that most wonderful of English sights, a country police station with its blue lamps and a constable on duty outside.
Said constable leaped for his life as the Rolls came to a halt in the hedge outside the station. “OI!! Wot the ‘ell d’you think you’re playing at? Oh, it’s you, milord, I’m begging your pardon!”
“Hurry, man! There’s some kind of a rebellion going on up at the Abbey!! My driver, Tree, he seems to have taken leave of his senses! He’s threatening to burn the Abbey down, and when I escaped he was in the process of crucifying Lady Barbara!”
“What!? Crucifying Lady Barbara? My God! SARGE!!!” He blew his whistle, and Serjeant Edwards appeared, though he was already on his way to investigate the Earl’s somewhat spectacular arrival.
“Sarge! They’re crucifying them up at the hall! Quick! We’ve got to get up there!”
The serjeant began bawling orders. Snaith was to telephone the fire brigade, then the army, then the doctor, and in that order; Albertson was to grab a bell, and then they all piled into the Rolls, this time with Edwards at the wheel.
The car was full of coppers, with more on the running boards, and Albertson on the roof, hanging on with one hand, enthusiastically ringing the bell and yelling ‘Police! Make Way!’ at the top of his voice. Edwards expertly turned it round, and set off at high speed back to the Abbey.
And that, Ladies and Gentlemen, is how Rattington got its very first police pursuit vehicle.
He’d pressed the left pedal, pulled the gear stick into neutral. What was it Tree had done? Let the clutch up, when the engine sounded like….that, clutch down and into gear. He let the clutch back in, the gears engaged with a click, and the car positively purred to be in a better gear. “YES!!!” he called out in triumph, then yanked the wheel left, then right, as the car lurched off and back onto the drive around his mother’s carriage, trotting in the opposite direction.
That was a close one! He shot through the gate, and wrenched the Rolls around onto the Rattington road, for which he was rewarded by a shaken fist from a farmer on his cart.
Should he be allowing his mother to head towards the dangers of Cruxton Abbey? Possibly not, but the best service he could now do any of them was to get to the police station in Rattington as quickly as possible.
The only other casualty of his slightly erratic drive into Rattington was the morning post, scattered to the four winds as the postman had thrown himself onto the verge as the Rolls had come round a bend on the wrong side of the road.
Soon he saw before him that most wonderful of English sights, a country police station with its blue lamps and a constable on duty outside.
Said constable leaped for his life as the Rolls came to a halt in the hedge outside the station. “OI!! Wot the ‘ell d’you think you’re playing at? Oh, it’s you, milord, I’m begging your pardon!”
“Hurry, man! There’s some kind of a rebellion going on up at the Abbey!! My driver, Tree, he seems to have taken leave of his senses! He’s threatening to burn the Abbey down, and when I escaped he was in the process of crucifying Lady Barbara!”
“What!? Crucifying Lady Barbara? My God! SARGE!!!” He blew his whistle, and Serjeant Edwards appeared, though he was already on his way to investigate the Earl’s somewhat spectacular arrival.
“Sarge! They’re crucifying them up at the hall! Quick! We’ve got to get up there!”
The serjeant began bawling orders. Snaith was to telephone the fire brigade, then the army, then the doctor, and in that order; Albertson was to grab a bell, and then they all piled into the Rolls, this time with Edwards at the wheel.
The car was full of coppers, with more on the running boards, and Albertson on the roof, hanging on with one hand, enthusiastically ringing the bell and yelling ‘Police! Make Way!’ at the top of his voice. Edwards expertly turned it round, and set off at high speed back to the Abbey.
And that, Ladies and Gentlemen, is how Rattington got its very first police pursuit vehicle.
“Would somebody mind explaining just what on EARTH is going on here?” The dowager was flabbergasted. “What have you done to our beautiful lawn? It’ll be ruined for croquet!”
Tree bellowed “Gunner, grab her!”
“Don’t think I can, guv, that horse has busted me ribs!”
“Wragg, then! Get her!”
Wragg headed purposefully towards the dowager but she swung her stick with a force that, at Lords, would have been a six clean over the Nursery end. It connected musically with Wragg’s lower jaw and he flew backwards, landing in a crumpled heap at the foot of Barbara’s cross. He looked up at Barb, and decided he was quite comfortable where he was.
The fact that he was laying on a large bag of nails, and was being nibbled at by an unsympathetic horse, did not appear to be of concern to him.
That set Erin and Melissa into action, yelling and brandishing their weapons, and Tree’s few remaining comrades decided that discretion was better than valour and took to their heels.
Tree said, “Oh, Fuck!” as Erin approached him with her sword. He, Bull and Gunner turned tail and fled, Erin and Melissa in hot pursuit.
Gunner was quickly overtaken, disabled as he was, and Melissa expertly trussed him up with his own rope. Erin brought Bull down with a swipe that took his legs out from under him, then clouted him over the head and he, too, was out of action.
Tree was last seen disappearing through a hedge.
“Well, I must say, that was the most fun I’ve had for just about half a century! Thank you so much for hanging on till I arrived!” The Dowager looked up at Barbara. “Oh! I say! Poor choice of words! Are you all right up there, my dear?”
“Not really, Gran, it does hurt rather a lot.”
“Never mind dear, stiff upper lip, and all that. Fortitude! That’s our motto! Our family were at Balaclava, you know! And Waterloo! My man Meadowes will have you down in a trice. Won’t you, Meadows?”
“Very good, milady” Meadowes sounded uncertain, and he looked as though he regretted missing the session on getting nude girls down from crosses at butlering school.
The dowager peered anxiously at the crosses. “I do hope they haven’t crucified the gardener….will this lawn ever be the same again?”
Then a thought struck her. “Eulalia? Where’s your housekeeper? We need sheets from the house! All this nudity, and before breakfast!”
Eulalia looked up at Mrs Evans, who groaned as she fought herself up for breath. “In…the cupboard…under…the stairs, Milady!”
Eulalia despatched Savannah on the errand, and Tanda took Roxie and Blaire in to get them dressed.
One of the stable lads quietened Trixie down and led her back to the stables for some well deserved hay.
There was the sound of bells clanging, as the Rolls was chased along the drive by the Rattington Fire Brigade.
The police rapidly rounded up the stragglers from Tree’s band. “Well, well, well!” said Serjeant Edwards. “If it isn’t Wally ‘sticky fingers’ Wragg! I’m very pleased to see you, my lad, you’re wanted for burglaries up at Nutley Castle, Acorn Acres, and Tufteigh Towers, you are! Come along, you scoundrel, let’s be ‘aving you!”
The firemen were pleased they’d responded so quickly to the call, arriving as they did before the sheets. They gazed with great interest at Barbara and Siss, and then two of the youngest and fittest looked thrilled when they were ordered to ‘get them down, pronto.’
“My name’s George.”
“Mine’s Eric!”
“I am very pleased to see you, George and Eric!” said Barb, wiggling a little, just enough not to hurt too much.
“I can see that,” said George, looking at her nipples.
“OI! You two! Stop ogling the victims and get them down!”
“Yes, Guv’nor! Come on, Eric!”
Just then Savannah returned with sheets. Shevak wrapped himself up, immediately, but Barb and Siss were keener to be horizontal than covered, so George and Eric carefully lifted Barb’s cross out of its socket, and gently lowered it onto the ground, then did the same for Siss, as Savannah did the honours with the sheets.
Dr Xsordon arrived, equipped with laughing gas, and procedures became merrier. Barbara barely felt it as the firemen and the doctor took out the nails. Even TC was convulsed with laughter as the firemen released him from his cross.
Barbara sat up, as Dr Xsordon bandaged her wrists. “I can’t believe you’d do that for fun, Siss!”
“Well, it isn’t usually quite that painful, to be honest! Nor quite so cold!” She shivered.
The Dowager stomped anxiously around the lawn, then relaxed when the gardener assured her he’d have it as good as new within a week. She appeared to have completely forgotten the plight of her eldest grand daughter. Eventually, though, she looked at Barbara, then at her bandaged wrists, with some concern.
“Are you going to be able to hold a knife and fork properly at dinner tonight?”
Barbara rolled her eyes.
Eulalia looked at the Earl. “Do you think we could have a normal chauffeur next time, Robert, dear?”
He stared at her. “Bugger that. I’ll drive the bloody thing myself!”
THE END
Tree bellowed “Gunner, grab her!”
“Don’t think I can, guv, that horse has busted me ribs!”
“Wragg, then! Get her!”
Wragg headed purposefully towards the dowager but she swung her stick with a force that, at Lords, would have been a six clean over the Nursery end. It connected musically with Wragg’s lower jaw and he flew backwards, landing in a crumpled heap at the foot of Barbara’s cross. He looked up at Barb, and decided he was quite comfortable where he was.
The fact that he was laying on a large bag of nails, and was being nibbled at by an unsympathetic horse, did not appear to be of concern to him.
That set Erin and Melissa into action, yelling and brandishing their weapons, and Tree’s few remaining comrades decided that discretion was better than valour and took to their heels.
Tree said, “Oh, Fuck!” as Erin approached him with her sword. He, Bull and Gunner turned tail and fled, Erin and Melissa in hot pursuit.
Gunner was quickly overtaken, disabled as he was, and Melissa expertly trussed him up with his own rope. Erin brought Bull down with a swipe that took his legs out from under him, then clouted him over the head and he, too, was out of action.
Tree was last seen disappearing through a hedge.
“Well, I must say, that was the most fun I’ve had for just about half a century! Thank you so much for hanging on till I arrived!” The Dowager looked up at Barbara. “Oh! I say! Poor choice of words! Are you all right up there, my dear?”
“Not really, Gran, it does hurt rather a lot.”
“Never mind dear, stiff upper lip, and all that. Fortitude! That’s our motto! Our family were at Balaclava, you know! And Waterloo! My man Meadowes will have you down in a trice. Won’t you, Meadows?”
“Very good, milady” Meadowes sounded uncertain, and he looked as though he regretted missing the session on getting nude girls down from crosses at butlering school.
The dowager peered anxiously at the crosses. “I do hope they haven’t crucified the gardener….will this lawn ever be the same again?”
Then a thought struck her. “Eulalia? Where’s your housekeeper? We need sheets from the house! All this nudity, and before breakfast!”
Eulalia looked up at Mrs Evans, who groaned as she fought herself up for breath. “In…the cupboard…under…the stairs, Milady!”
Eulalia despatched Savannah on the errand, and Tanda took Roxie and Blaire in to get them dressed.
One of the stable lads quietened Trixie down and led her back to the stables for some well deserved hay.
There was the sound of bells clanging, as the Rolls was chased along the drive by the Rattington Fire Brigade.
The police rapidly rounded up the stragglers from Tree’s band. “Well, well, well!” said Serjeant Edwards. “If it isn’t Wally ‘sticky fingers’ Wragg! I’m very pleased to see you, my lad, you’re wanted for burglaries up at Nutley Castle, Acorn Acres, and Tufteigh Towers, you are! Come along, you scoundrel, let’s be ‘aving you!”
The firemen were pleased they’d responded so quickly to the call, arriving as they did before the sheets. They gazed with great interest at Barbara and Siss, and then two of the youngest and fittest looked thrilled when they were ordered to ‘get them down, pronto.’
“My name’s George.”
“Mine’s Eric!”
“I am very pleased to see you, George and Eric!” said Barb, wiggling a little, just enough not to hurt too much.
“I can see that,” said George, looking at her nipples.
“OI! You two! Stop ogling the victims and get them down!”
“Yes, Guv’nor! Come on, Eric!”
Just then Savannah returned with sheets. Shevak wrapped himself up, immediately, but Barb and Siss were keener to be horizontal than covered, so George and Eric carefully lifted Barb’s cross out of its socket, and gently lowered it onto the ground, then did the same for Siss, as Savannah did the honours with the sheets.
Dr Xsordon arrived, equipped with laughing gas, and procedures became merrier. Barbara barely felt it as the firemen and the doctor took out the nails. Even TC was convulsed with laughter as the firemen released him from his cross.
Barbara sat up, as Dr Xsordon bandaged her wrists. “I can’t believe you’d do that for fun, Siss!”
“Well, it isn’t usually quite that painful, to be honest! Nor quite so cold!” She shivered.
The Dowager stomped anxiously around the lawn, then relaxed when the gardener assured her he’d have it as good as new within a week. She appeared to have completely forgotten the plight of her eldest grand daughter. Eventually, though, she looked at Barbara, then at her bandaged wrists, with some concern.
“Are you going to be able to hold a knife and fork properly at dinner tonight?”
Barbara rolled her eyes.
Eulalia looked at the Earl. “Do you think we could have a normal chauffeur next time, Robert, dear?”
He stared at her. “Bugger that. I’ll drive the bloody thing myself!”
THE END
RacingRodent
Consul
Well done Wragg, I hope the Magistrate is lenient with you.
Hang on......the ladies sorted all this out themselves! (well with some help from Trixie but barring species differences she is gel too)...the poor Earl is never...never ever going to hear the end of this
Hang on...
...the ladies sorted all this out themselves! (well with some help from Trixie but barring species differences she is gel too)...the poor Earl is never...never ever going to hear the end of this
25th August 1912
By R. Wragg
SIR PAUL RESTORES DIPLOMATIC RELATIONS WITH BRAZIL, YUWAIT, AND THE UNITED STATES
Sir Paul Wilson, the Foreign Secretary, emerged, ashen faced, from the Foreign Office after an all night session with the US, and Yuwaiti ambassadors, and an official from the Brazilian Embassy.
Mrs Cicely Cruz, a US citizen, Mr Thomaso Cruz, the Brazilian Ambassador, and Princess Yupar of Yuwait were recently hospitalised after ‘riding accidents’ at Cruxton Abbey, in Suffolk, prompting protests in the strongest terms from the three countries.
It is understood that a battleship is to be donated by the Royal Navy to Brazil, a resource that it can ill afford in these troubled times. In addition, a deal to procure petrol exclusively from Yuwait for the Rolls Royce at Cruxton Abbey appears to have soothed the Yuwaiti contingent.
In a further development, a Mr Tree, who appeared in some way to be to blame for these riding accidents, arrived at New York aboard the SS Cruxitania, only to be detained immediately by officials from Brazil, who are seeking his extradition from the United States.
Will we ever know precisely what took place at Cruxton Abbey? Serjeant Albert Edwards, of the Rattington Police, was tight lipped when reporters questioned him yesterday.
“I doubt if we’ll ever get to the crux of the matter,” was all he would say.
Well done Wragg, I hope the Magistrate is lenient with you.
Hang on...
Don't they always?
Poor old Tree, I feel a bit sorry for him, as well as the Earl
I think these two episodes, if not the whole yarn, should pretty well finish off any respect the English, not to mention the rest of the world, may have for the upper classes! What a farce....so much fun Wragg!