Delilah and Hammond Eggs at the Salon du The

Lord Bumbridge and Hammond Eggs sat at a small table near the kitchen of the Salon du The. The tea room would not be busy for another half an hour or so, giving them enough time to discuss Institutional Club matters without being overheard. Lord Bumbridge looked over to the front of the restaurant to where their respective wives were sat.

Delilah Eggs was on top form as usual with her moaning and whinging. Lady Bumbridge was nibbling a cucumber sandwich, her eyes glazing over as she continued to listen to Delilah complain about her husband, Hammond Eggs “…and he couldn’t get it up, can you believe that? I mean it wasn’t hard… I was so annoyed with him that I grabbed the box myself and climbed the step ladder….”. Lady Bumbridge wondered why she agreed to see Delilah so frequently, being with the shrivelled bore drained her sometimes of even the will to live. She could see her husband pretending to read from the menu, but was obviously discussing the consignment of deathstalker scorpions from Libya. Although she was not privy to the Institutional Club’s secrets, Lord Bumbridge would give detailed accounts of these affairs in his sleep - he suffered from a rare condition called “Linguasomnia” which caused him, during slumber, to verbally repeat events of the day.

Lord Bumbridge was discussing the scorpions with Hammond, a small man with small everything, when over the sound system came the most frequently played track in the Salon du The, Herb Alpert’s Tijuana Taxi. Lord Bumbridge almost choking on his Dressed Boar’s Head, stood up abruptly, exclaiming “What the fuck?! Do we have to listen to that damned noise every time we come in here?!” Hammond Eggs glanced over at Delilah to see her tapping her strappy gold shoes and bobbing her head up and down in time to the tune.

Lady Bumbridge could not relax, she had a horrible feeling in the pit of her stomach. What were the scorpions for? she wondered. She knew that they were deadly but their venom could also be put to beneficial uses, but she had a hard time connecting her husband with philanthropic intentions. Lady Bumbridge shivered down to her corns.