Wild weekend with Reginald Hardcourt

At the moment I am only semi-conscious, so forgive me, Reader, if I am only semi-coherent. My torrid love affair with the green faerie continues... I am captive to her charms.

Reginald and I jetted to London for a wild weekend in the magnificent city, the omphalos of Industrialization. I dressed as Oscar Wilde and Reginald, as Beau Brummell. We washed our boots in champagne and began the ritual of dripping sugared water into that most potent of potables, Absinthe (the mere word gives me goose pimples). The faerie danced and Reginald chanted the bard's most otherworldly lines,

Double, double, toil and trouble;
Fire burn and cauldron bubble.
Cool it with a baboon's blood,
Then the charm is firm and good.

With the last line Reginald playfully grabbed his crotch.

He then transitioned into his latest from "cacophonous caccaw" (he later informed me that what seemed like a wild mess of bird noises was in fact a highly-structured amalgamation of Greek, Latin, and Ebonics) and pricked his finger, adding three drops of his own "baboon blood" to each glass. He then leaned close and whispered hellishly in my ear:

And now about the cauldron sing,
Live elves and fairies in a ring,
Enchanting all that you put in.

Then began the phantasmagoria... and when I came to I was walking along railroad tracks with Reginald, my hair ruffled, my pants soiled. We walked along a narrow bridge while rain clouds gathered; it seemed as though we were crossing over the river Styx into Hades. I mentioned this to Reginald. He said he had a confession to make.

"What is it, Reg?" said I. "You can tell me anything for I am as sinister as they come; just don't confess you are clean because that is a lie."

He spoke not but instead removed his shoe to reveal what looked like a cloven foot.

"My God Reg.. are you... he?"

"No Nigey Wigey... A mere minion."

We spoke no more but continued along the bridge. Then the clouds burst. There was thunder and lightning. We turned around for fear.

"We'll save Hell for another day," said Reg.

"Isn't that like the faerie?" said I. "How she shows us our destiny, but won't let us touch it."

"Yes Nigel. She is a most magnificent tease."