Lord Borr returned to his office after a hard day's work. The gleam from his immaculately clean floor and desk seemed to welcome him home. He was in his office, the door shut, when the smell - the putrid smell of trash - reached his nose. He sniffed once. And then again. And once more.
He was furious. Someone was going to pay. Lord Borr went to his classroom.
__________________  Someone unimportant whose name slips my memory made this signature. Twas Lady Borr who did it, sir! Boor's bringin' sexy back and yall just hatin' Kingston: Marry me my lord. We're perfect for each other. |