Poetry in Commotion...

Got into a spot of bother at the Alehouse last night. Some arse claiming to be a poet of some description, claimed I has spilt his flaggon. I plainly saw the man finish his drink, wipe his mouth and then stride over to confront me In the most vulger of tones.

Hav'ing consumed the best part of four bottles of port i was in no mind to be poncing about with a foil outside in the cold. I waited for him to go to relieve himself in the privy and then gave the bookish rogue a thorough drubbing with the business end of my swagger stick. I had the Landlord chuck the cheeky whelp into the street and his name put firmly on the 'Innewatch Lyste, Bann'd From One Bann'd From Alle'.

My Manservent is looking less like a leper today having been bled. I only hope he will not frequent houses of quite such ill repute in the future.