Magnus the Busboy, Part 10

Part 10

For a time, the know-it-all elderly Druids busied themselves critiquing Arianrhod’s Checklist of the Flora and Fauna of These Parts.

Here that pig is. Common name, Twrch Trwyth. Scientific name, Sus gigantica ephemeranus. Er. That young lady may be correct. According to the scientific name, that particular kind of pig may wax and wane, size wise. Still, I would have to see it to believe it. Me too. Correct. Big as four double wides. Ha!

Yes. The elderly Druids had to check the contents of the checklist against their personal observations. Plus, they needed to make sure Arianrhod’s synonymy jived with their synonymy. All this took awhile.

Meantime, the beautiful Blodeuwedd hovered nearby, in case the elderly Druids required libation restoration. Which they all did, a lot. Going over a new checklist is thirsty work. Also, since Blodeuwedd had previously provided the elderly Druids with an identification opinion regarding Twrch Trwyth, they now viewed Blodeuwedd as something of a local expert.

Are you sure this is correct young lady? An elderly Druid indicated a series of potential taxonomic errors within the genus Hymenocallis.

You need to ask my Mama. My Mama did the checklist. But my Mama is busy right now. Can I take your orders, please?

Yet the orders were not immediately forthcoming. In fact, the elderly Druids were so involved with their complimentary checklists that they had paid scant attention to the menus. Plus, they had guzzled up so much Silver Dollar Mead, old bladders notwithstanding, that a trail had been beat to the comfort stations.

Young lady, that comfort station is out of tp. We need some tp in the Lady’s.

Meantime, Magnus contentedly dumped out a load of leftovers into Twrch Trwyth’s food trough.

The mighty bouncer pig took time out from espying the Dining and Gaming Area for rowdy behavior, to acknowledge Magnus and all his hard work. Thank you Magnus.

You are welcome, Twrch Trwyth.

Magnus, could you come here a minute?

It was the beautiful Blodeuwedd. She needed Magnus. She was in distress. Magnus could save the beautiful Blodeuwedd from Her distress. Hastily, Magnus parked his wheel barrow out of the way behind the beer trough, where none of the paying customers were likely to trip over it. Hastily, Magnus hastened to the side of the beautiful Blodeuwedd.

Magnus, these elderly Druids are driving me crazy. Now they have used up all the tp. You need to police the comfort stations. Make sure there is plenty of tp and the seats are all dry.

Uh. The Lady’s too.

Yes Magnus, the Lady’s too.

Yeah but, what if there are ladies in the Lady’s. What do I do then?

You shall just have to figure something out, Magnus. Figure out a solution, efficiently. You may need to put up a sign while you are policing the Lady’s.

I don’t understand.

Yes. It is true. Magnus, in the presence of the beautiful Blodeuwedd, was reduced to semi-idiocy. His wits were befuddled. His noggin was askew. His IQ, if there is such a thing, had actually ebbed, from the time he arrived at the WG Bar and Grill to the present time. That’s because Magnus spent too much time fretting over his prospects, leaving less time for other intellectual pursuits.

Poor Blodeuwedd. There She was. Peppered by queries from the besotted elderly Druids. Fetching still more libation refills. And now, afflicted with a busboy who claimed he did not understand how to police the Lady’s Comfort Station.

So in between Her various waitress duties, Blodeuwedd patiently listed all the steps Magnus needed to undertake if he was to successfully police the Lady’s. She had to go over the steps four times. After four times, Magnus claimed he understood. Off went Magnus.

Where’s Magnus?, the Lady Arianrhod, wanted to know. Tables 7 come 11 need busing.

Sigh! He’s policing the Lady’s, Mama. The Lady’s is out of tp.