🚀 go-pugleaf

[Aside: *Cheating@Sbccvm, do you or do you not currently have in your
possession any uea passwords, and if so, to what account?*]

I would not have deemed the Enemy sweetest-before-it-strikes terribly
much of a gaffe in any of its fetching summer guises, but you're very
welcome to bring out yr fighting engine to swarm the blockades, as I
doubt you've depleted yr armour-room of provocative scathes yet.
Conserving what's left of however many lives you've accorded me, I'll
batten the deft cottage hatches: I hereby Promise on my honour as a
kept woman Not to get upset and to pretend Not to care, and all for
a change shall be conspicuously civilized.  THOUGH, duels, m'dear,
are Just Too Crashingly Romantic; shall we have a crab-race instead,
presuming you haven't returned little Percival to the seaside yet,
and if he's looking peaky, it means you've gone and added pepper
instead of salt to the water-jar, after all I told you.  And Into
The Farrier's Arms.  Or Mine.  Darling.

Trusting you've slept off yr tiredness, perhaps I wish for such
parlous things as answers to the questions I have no intention of
asking -- unserviceable, I know, but it cannot be helped, so it may
be more circumspect to impugn in tennis-court oaths of allegiance:
devotions glad or morose in any language you choose (and, as I haven't
yet noted, it's either irish or gaeilge, %not% gaelic: mind you don't
mistake yrself for the american which, of course, you are) in flaunted
displays of hero-worship on tap.  Companionship aplenty you've
bestowed, y'know, far from unwanted; you've made yourself the
touchstone against which it pleases me, mentally damaged as you've
made me in the need for sbrhym-l as gateway, to find all other persons
lacking, and I cannot ask for what I have already got.  Striking out
each and every thing you've given me and glossing over the remains of
pocketage as I wonder whether or not you'd tell me if I'd lapsed a
little closest, what I want is whatever you think I want ...or, better
still, whatever you want me to want.

How's that for tactical maneuvering?

Or maybe all I really want is that you should know what I want, and
that, m'love, was an ace.

Incidentally, I don't keep promises.

H.