Liz and Anne read Marcie and Gina

"Eh Liz-Luv?"

"Mmm?"

"I gab English, righ'? Like good as any queen efen?"

"Ye be as English as tea, chimney sweeps, and any crown jewels I'd be lucky to have."

"Ayh lass knows 'ow a charm she does."

"Why ye be asking?"

"Oy, seems someun follow you aroun' an' wro'e a panf'et on you. Den couple a' udder lasses pu' in 'eir twin bits on i' an' dey say my bi' abou' you no' bein' a bobby ain' well english."

"Using bobbies to mean the law and other up-tights seems plenty English to me. Where be their musings?"

"In me shelf bung."

Reading commenced

"Stop, stop, stop?"

"Some'in' ama'er, luv?"

"Just reading that bit there with the full stops."

"Daft pira'e, dey are exclama'on point'."

"Aye that they be, but what they be exclaming about?"

"Fee'in' la'y fingers t' 'er bald minge, I suspec' from a next line. Or raffer, a desire t' do i', bu' no'a willingness to, eh?"

"A bit of a loss that? No talk of tiffling tittling on teatering? Just a few sentence stoppers to gloss over what poets fill books with."

"Oy!? What ya 'ave 'er say 'en? "me fuck 'and goeth by ith own volition ona mine own fuck 'ole." Is 'at what you wan 'er t' say? Good ding you got'a pre'y eyes 'n' fetchin' arse, blimey."

"Nah not like that, ye spank-getter. Could do with some more description between the talking is all. It'd help say who be talking."

"Ha, easy 'nough. Gina talks pro'er. Marcie talks all posh like, got a stick u' 'er back passage she does, she does."

"She ought share with Gina. That doxie could do good with something up her arse."

"Cheers on 'at luv."

"Aye, I still say a bit of narration be handy for every good story. Take us if ye will."

"I'll take ya."

"One listening and hearing the occasional smack of our lips may suppose we are in deep conversation aside these words we speak, yet would not be able to tell that ye are sat on my lap while we are so entwined. And this listener be completely compassless in discovering what task my hand be undertaking."

"He he, and what an 'alanted 'and you 'ave. But talking ov wiffou' a compass, 'ese skirts seem'a think we in 'ell. 'Is is a migh' posh 'otel in 'ell if i' is."

"In there defense, I was a bit persuaded to that regard when I first arrived, and The Mistress certainly gives off hints as such."

"Oy, bu' 'at whip tart also calls it Val'alla righ'? It's in the sodden 'itle ov ta story even. Oh I won'er where 'at Val'alla story 'akes place in. I 'ave no idea on accoun' ov I'm a bugger twat."

"Ho, ho, steady now. Stow yer offense and let me bare my own hollow grievances."

"Yield 'a floor, I do."

"See they seem to hold little stock in my introduction to Valhalla, and while I be a bit apprehensive of The Mistress's methods, I must admit it did give me a proper sense of this place. 'Twas akin to sending a green sailor in search of snake oil or other such nonsense. I saw the games, characters, and creatures of Valhalla. Then I be given some time to rest in mine quarters before I'm ready for a round of mine own."

"Fair 'nough, bu' 'haps the faul' was in 'a wri'er."

"I suppose. If the author, whoever they be, lost the message in their details then the fault would be on them. I'm not going to say one way or another what's the case."

"Speakin' ov los' in'a details, wha's 'at bi' abou' Gov soun'in like clothes."

"Oh, I think I may know this. See the really posh will have seperate clothes for summer and winter, and they'll keep one set tucked away with balls, powders and that such to preserve their freshness. They've been a few mansions I've plundered, and found they had quite some lovely clothes tucked aside and seemingly embalmed in serenity. The Governess's voice contains an equal measure of this opulence and the promise of summer."

"I suppose 'at's a way to pu' it, bu' dere's pro'ably be'er ways. Movin' on, dey go'a bi' a' ta end abou' makin' the story more pop'lar."

"So more folk can read about me flailing atop the vibrating seat and throwing the challenge in surrender to my body's yearning. I should think not."

"Oooy? lass is blushin', she is."

"Nevermind. That cupcake in the long coat be quite comely. I'd read her story."

"I think 'at's 'upposed to be you."

"What!? that be some mewling spunk sop. They see me as that? "Oh, strong Mercy and Genny,--""

"Marcie an' Gina."

""Oh strong Marcie and Gina, I'm a silly pirate that can't even dress proper. Oh please, my body be ravenous for ye touch. I beg." Grot tarts upon them. Even that hair be too long for decent ropery."

"Slimy strumpets, dey is. Squawking daft abou' me lass."

"I tell ye who that back-laying quim be. She be a merchant's daughter or other sea-tottering toff, swordly invited to my cabin. Then after her charms are explored and my appetite sated thrice over. I lend her my coat on condition she keeps an eagerness in her teats and a dampness betwixt her legs."

"You done, ya rile' minx?"

"Oh leagues from. If those halfpenny doxie's end up here. I'll, I'll, I'll get them a well written humiliating halftime script."

"A wha' now?"

"Enter Genny--"

"Gina."

"Enter Gina wearing a pony mask and tied as such. "Oh my what a match," she says. "I screamed myself... a sore throat. You might say I'm a little... bit scratchy sounding in my voice." She swings her head whipping her reins about. "Boy am I all worked up I need to be... pulled in if you will." Other such punny punish to follow."

"Daft you are, and righ' boiled up too. 'Ave an in'rest in anotter bout of sweepin' me pink puddin'?"

"The asking took to long. Put ye lace on so I may have something to tear off."