While proper society ladies are engaged in charitable bingo, The Great Northern Court is spinning out of control. In addition to performing African dances at places named "Rumpy's Tavern", The Countess has enticed my sister--by all accounts still a proper lady--into mocking me with this.
In past days of glory, I would have sent the Great Southern Fleet north to bombard them. Times being what they are, we have to The Fleet at dock so The Countess will continue to "act up" unfettered.
Mrs. Stuyvesant-Fish (unfortunately referred to at Mrs. Styrofoam-Flinch this weekend by my beloved, Leopold) threw her formidable weight behind Commissioner Bower's campaign in a delightful meeting yesterday.
We will all be gathering at Scottie's movie tonight. It will be a tastful gathering, unlike the out-of-control-madness of The Countess. In the Good Old Days, she would be hauled before a council and reprimanded, perhaps even locked up for a while.
Tiaras at Rumpy's; the horror is to much to comprehend.