(Formerly known as the “Hare & Hedgehog.”)
UNDER NEW MANAGEMENT
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91 Comments
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*tosses tea bag in trash*Let’s see, I just read about all the sorts of things we’re not supposed to do…So, on that note, I would like a nice, cold…
=) This is incredibly
beer. Yup, that’s right. In the spirit of disobeying all the rules, I am now promoting the drinking of alcohol.great, great fun.[Translate]
May I have some… I think… Chai Tea. And a scone. Rasberry, I think. Oh wait, ‘raspberry’ is spelled with a ‘T’ I must remember that.
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May I have some chocolate chip bread please? I would like some HPB Tea along with that as well.
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Please refer to the menu before placing frivolous orders.
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4 – I ordered tea and bread – they’re on the menu, aren’t they?
Also, I must simply add some Pie Porridge to my order. I hear it’s absolutely delectable.
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Well then, may I have toast? And butter? With some… Green tea, I believe. I should have looked, my… *tries to think of a new way to apologize* Anyway, I’m sorry.
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(2) Throwing away tea bags is wasteful. Please retrieve it immediately.
(3, 4) Such requests indicate imprudence and a dangerous tendency toward decadent taste. Chocolate chips in bread indeed. Chai tea and scones. *snorts* They’re the first step on the slippery slope to corruption. We serve only the most morally improving tea and bread.
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8 – My bad, my bad. I suppose I’ll restrain myself from corruption this time…
Instead, may I please have some morally pure bread with chocolate chips on the side? Surely that’s possible in such a…er…”lovely” kitchen.
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8- I have discovered my… What was it you said? ‘first step on the slippery slope to corruption’ and requested something else. Might I have it? I appear to be hungry.
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It is all very well to sate one’s hunger, but you and Miss Meow must understand how the Tea Room operates. It offers one kind of tea, orange pekoe, brewed none too strong; and one kind of bread. Chocolate chips on the side, indeed! We do not believe in spoiling young people.
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11 – I only ordered one kind of bread!
Fine, then, how about some whipped cream for the top?
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Rest assured that, in the unlikely event that whipped cream ever becomes available, the menu will instantly reflect its presence.
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May I have my bread already? You are trying my presence, Sir Mongrool.
I suppose I will accept your limited assortment of teas. I will have six cups of orange pekoe, brewed none too strong, thank you.
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Miss Meow, may I have a cup of tea. Surely you don’t need six?
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*examines menu* *dislikes it thoroughly*
*steals pot of hot water* *brews apple cinnamon tea and puts sugar in it* There, that’s better.[Translate]
Well, I see that the new regime is in place, and not before time. I believe that I have now swept the last filthy little wung out of the back door, so we will not be further troubled by their profligacy and decadence.
It has come to my attention that games once proved popular in this establishment. While I am loth to encourage frivolity, I must recognise that this is, in some respects, a place of ease, and provides a respite from mental labour. I would therefore propose a game of Latin declensions. Who will begin?
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15 – Of course I do. I’m very thirsty. And, besides, I have heard that tea conducts electricity very well.
17 – You’re very sure that you got them all, aren’t you? ;D
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Miss Meow, I wish for some tea. As there are no more wungs, I would request you to fetch it.
As for declensions, Mr. Swampworthy, I regret to inform you I know nothing of them. I only know English and Chinese.
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Hah, Swampworthy, you wish. I know for a fact that the wungs are still here, in hiding, helping us in our overthrow of you evil Studgers! I have inside information, from my dear, dear Floom. Who is, in fact, in residence inside your horrid establishment, RIGHT NOW.
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Miss Lovely, the GRIMs are to be addressed as “Mr.” or “Ms.” as appropriate. First names are decidedly inappropriate in this context. I should have thought that your age and educational attainments would have given you better comportment and more sense. Please bear in mind as well that nobody here is compelled to moderate your posts. If you do not wish to observe Filboid Studge’s extremely reasonable norms of behavior, there are many other Web logs on which you may behave however you please.
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My dear E. Coli, age hardly indicates good comportment and common sense. And I did not call Swampworthy by his first name. Also, my educational attainments? Of my teachers this year, 6 of 7 go by their first names. Of course, most are grad students/TAs, but still.
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Nevertheless, Miss Lovely, he is “Mr. Swampworthy” to you. Your college has its rules and expectations; we have ours.
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May I have some pie, please?
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24–*gives pie* Floom helped me to make it for you…..As did the wungs in hiding.
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25 – Thanks! :^D
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gah. My post didn’t post….
26–You are most welcome. And I regret to inform you that the hidden threads have vanished, although I can still access them from my history.
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Hm. It seems the wungs are obstinate creatures. I commend them on their persistence, but they are vermin, and we muct be rid of them. I am therefore installing wung traps throughout the building. Patrons are warned to watch where they step, lest misfortune befall them.
Now, to lighten the mood. Since no-one seems inclined towards even a little light Latin conjugation, what of geometry? Would someone be so kind as to remind us of Euclid’s fourth proposition, that we may discuss its implications?
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Thank you, Mr. Swampworthy. You did such an admirable job of ridding us of those rabbits.
Now — Euclid, anyone?
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28–Well, unfortunately, dear Master Swampworthy (oh, yes, you are indeed worthy of a swamp. perhaps one like the Weasley twins made for Umbridge), the wungs are much too smart to be caught in your wung traps. They are very wise creatures, much wiser than yourself.As for geometry, I was lucky enough to finish that course years and years ago, and have gone up through calculus, and am now done with math. no more shall I suffer through it’s horridness!
29–E. Coli, please, rabbits are lagamorphs. Wungs are not. They are a completely different species. Surely such an esteemed individual as yourself would realize this?
Oh, and Master Swampworthy? My dear little charge Floom (a wung, in case you don’t know), says you are a horrid, evil individual, and he and his relatives are going to make sure you get your comeuppance.
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I believe his fourth proposition was as follows: If in triangles ABC and DEF you have a pair of corresponding sides equal AB is equal to DE, AC is equal to DF and the angle included between them angle A and angle D are equal then the triangles are congruent. As to the implications, i really have no idea.
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31–You lost me. And I took geometry. And passed w/ a good grade. And I am still lost. Apparently it has been too long….
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Porrige, please. And I demand a new teabag.
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33–You can have mine from the trash! just kidding.
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I found that on a geometry website. Rather poorly written, actually.
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Ah, I see there are at least a few intelligent children who frequent this establishment. Well done, er – “Public Like a Frog”. Although I am at a loss to fathom your nom de plume, I see that you know your Euclid.
Well now, let us indulge in a little conjecture, purely for fun, of course. Would someone like to suggest why Euclid was so reluctant to use elsewhere the principle of superposition, which naturally follows on from the fourth propostion?
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Can I have a Red Bull and a chocolate muffin? I need a sugar boost right now.
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Most assuredly not.
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May I have some oatmeal?
6 – You misspelled ‘know’, Mr. Swampworthy. You wrote ‘knwo’.
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Ah, Miss Pills spotted it. Ten points to Morgrool House!
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Oh deary me. I must check to see which house I am in.
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9 – You are quite correct. I made an error, and I apologise. I commend you for spotting it so promptly. This sort of pettyfogging pedantry is admirable, and should be encouraged. Take a house point, child.
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Oh, I’m in Morgrool House. And I see I have ten points already. Thank you very much, Mr. Morgrool.
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12 – And thank you as well, Mr. Swampworthy.
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Here comes your oatmeal. I recommend it; it is extra-salty today.
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15 – Thank you very much, Mr. Morgrool. And I apologize for my earlier double-posting.
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45–salty oatmeal? *shudder* I like my oatmeal sweet and sugary. Apples&cinnamon is the best flavor…
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I apologize for disappearing, I decided that my undone schoolwork was setting a bad example for newer Studgers, and did it. Now, I am free to receive my tea, whatever kind you have, and bread. Pay no attention to my requests for green tea, I had not realized I was at error there.
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May I please have a slice of dry toast and a cup of weak grey tea?
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But what if we don’t like tea or porridge? *sob*
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You see, this is how it starts. At the behest of well-meaning busybodies, we decide that gruel is no longer suitable for children. By “unsuitable”, the aforementioned busybodies mean “unfashionable”. So we substitute best oatmeal, and, to make it even more palatable, we add a little salt, and milk on Sundays. Now these ungrateful wretches want sugar and spices and fruit, and I don’t know what else. I shudder to think of the monstrous expense of providing such delicacies.
I knew it would come to this. No good ever came of spoiling children. Tea, indeed! Tea, children, green or otherwise, is a drink for your elders and betters. Tea will put all sorts of peculiar notions into your heads if your constitutions are not strong enough to govern the wilder effects of the decoction. You must, indeed, learn the art of polite conversation, but to accompany it, I would urge you to confine yourselves to water from the well until you are mature enough to moderate the flights of fancy that tea will inevitably induce.
There, now I have disturbed the peace, and raised dust, so to speak. I believe I must go to bed. I will take a cup of tea and a slice of toast up to Matron, who, no doubt, will be gasping by now. Perhaps things will be calmer in the morning. Good night, children. Let us hear no more nonsense about trifles and fripperies.
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Did someone say trifle?
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49–Ah, don’t worry my fussy swamp-worthy individual. I haven’t the least bit of interest in tea. A nasty, vile drink it is. Much like coffee, in that regard. A nice cup of cocoa, hot jello, or a cold fizzy soda is much, much more appealing than tea any day.
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It ’tis not yet six! Why, are you saying our bed time is six o’clock, nowadays? I had no idea! It says nothing about it on the ‘How You Must Behave’ thread, but if you say it, it must be so. I shall go quench my thirst at the well, wash my face, perhaps fill a cup, or maybe bucket, with water in case I feel thirsty in the night. Unless this is discouraged?
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Trifles and fripperies are some of the best parts of life. I struggle to see how an uptight such as yourself would understand such a concept, but what is a lunch hour worth without conversation between friends, what is the worth of a day without frills? It woud be bland and devoid of life. Is this how you want us to be? Apathetic and worthless? Because this is what life without fun and a bit of frolicking would be like, Mr. Swampworthy. Useless.[Translate]
Hey, no one asked ME if I wanted to play Latin declensions! I’m quite good at them. What are the rules of the game?
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Six o’clock to bed? Good gracious, I must take my off, mustn’t I? One more cup of orange st-
*spits out all over the table* PHHHBTHTHLTPPH! What is the matter with me?
All this brick grey conformity is making me woozy. Might I have on the of the H+H’s Earl Grey Teas to clear my head, if the headmaster will allow it? Or a scone?
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May I have some nice Death tea(otherwise known as green tea) and some bread? Cake would be nice, and pie would be even nicer, but I think they’re not on the menu. And may I place an order for some nice, cold, and plain porridge? *thinks of mischief while no one notices*
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54–Errata, I believe Swampworthy is our dear GAPA Paul Baker, whom none of us have seen in awhile. PB&J as he is fondly known, lives in England, which if I have my time zones correctly, is six hours ahead of central time (assuming they do Daylight savings, which I”m not sure on). So, at 6 here, it would be midnight in bonnie old England, a perfectly reasonable time to go to bed.
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10 points to Luna for recommending use of teabags from the trash can.
And Ms. Phish, you are in luck. I’m holding a still damp old Earl Grey tea bag in my hand, liberated from the bin. Your tea is coming right up.
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MY bedtime is six o’clock. You are permitted to stay up until eight, provided you occupy your time with worthy pursuits.
The trouble with fripperies is that they divert one’s attention away from more weighty matters, which may be of some importance. Suppose the corn laws had never been repealed because honourable members were persuaded to tarry over their tea by the provision of biscuits. Suppose a slice of cake in the officers’ mess had delayed Cumberland at Culloden. Then where would we be?
In any case, I must leave you to your Latin and your Euclid, for Morpheus calls me to my slumbers. As to rules, by all means invent your own, or play without them. This is no place to stand on formality.
A very good night to you all.
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60–No, no, it was a joke! Please don’t give me points, I don’t want points! I want more demerits!!!!!!!
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Luna, I am disappointed in you. Such a blatant attempt to become teacher’s pet.
Groveling is usually recommended, but in this case the groveling is a bit more brash than I like.
Reminder to self: Expand groveling curriculum for next semester.
In response to Ms. CTN’s request: Tea and porridge coming right up.
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Thank you, Ms. Troff. *hides in suit* *thinks mischief*
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May I please have some bread?
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Je voudrais un the vert et le pain d’artichoc.
Oh, and guys, I think that the anti-FS attitude of the first 16 posts is much more effective than people openly opposing the FS-ers. Because this way, they can’t really do anything about it, can they?
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*whispers* Am I in the student lounge? This new order doth confuse my fragile mind.
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T
o bed at 6 o’clock?! Why on this bloomin earth would anyone want or need to go to bed that early?! Ridiculous! And I really think it fair that we are allowed to drink something besides tea. In fact, that’s what I’m gonna do right now! *drinks orange soda*[Translate]
Miss Agatha, the student lounge is one of the many areas of the Muse Blog which have been condensed or removed. You may use the F&S to represent some student lounge, but it no longer exists.
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2~ You know what? I think I’m going to put on my
radioactive greenknee socks and join you Luna! *takes sip of beer* *faints* [*Provides suitable hosiery*][Translate]
Whot??????? That wasn’t gray-ified?? Geez GRIMs, get on the ball. I’m underage, you should know that. Wow.
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They have more meal choices than this on the space shuttle, even if it IS all freeze-dried. (Oh, sorry. Did I mention space again? Me maxissima culpa. Lo siento.)
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70~ *dies laughing and uses more profanity* Oops.
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Well. Hmph.
72) You’re right. They do have more choices. And I bet it tastes better to. *scowl at menu**eats some gouda* Ah. Much better!
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What here is considered profanity? *watches some Potter Puppet Pals*
Dobby’s Sock.
Jiggery Pokery.
Cauldron Bum.
This is quite frivolous!
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I will now occupy the area on the lampshade, as I have always done.
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75~ I was referring to the kind they didn’t even let us use back on the good ol’ MuseBlog.
Mow that was a fun place. *sighs, reminisces* And the GAPAs were such amiable, interesting people. Good times, those.
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*sits down in grey metal chair* Greetings, fellow Studgers. Are violins allowed in here? No? Oh dear. *monotonously sips tea and eats bread*
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Alas, I seem to have been so involved in my studies that I have unfortunately neglected my responsibilities here. I shall henceforth exert my efforts five, ten, and a hundredfold in order to pay some recompense for my horrendous mistake. Furthermore, I shall forgo my daily rations.
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I’d like some. . . mmm. . . bread, please.
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*whispers when the GRIMs backs are turned* Floppy wanded dementor buggerer!
My dear GRIMs, after consuming one last carbonated beverage, I have realized: I have been very disrespectful to your most esteemed personages. I apologize profusely, and will grovel as much as necessary to appease you, oh great ones. I realize, now, that you have nothing but our best interests at heart. You are not the cruel, dictatorial, strict individual I first believed. You are caring people, wise in your years. You should be respected and revered. You wish nothing more than to make respectable young adults out of us, which, of course, requires us to behave appropriately. No frivolity, no unnecessary amenities, we must live plain, simple, modest lives if we are to become respected individuals. We must conform to the standards you highly intelligent GRIMs have set here at Filboid Studge. Anything I can do to help you, dearest GRIMs, I shall–you need only ask.
*surreptitiously releases all wungs that were trapped by Swampworthy, when GRIMs’ backs are turned*
*confiscates used tea bags and replaces with fresh ones, of many varieties, while GRIMs chase after wungs*
*when GRIMs return, nods politely, as she innocently sits at a table sipping what appears to be tea (it’s not, though the GRIMs don’t know), prim and proper like a respectable young lady*
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Ms. Silver Lining in Post Number Eighty: Here you are. One piece only.
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Miss Fiddler: Perhaps if more “Muse Bloggers” had bought those preposterous T-shirts they insisted on selling, they would still be in business.
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I think I will rest in the chair very near to Greystar, to have a polite discussion about many unavoidably improper topics reminding ua about the old days of the blog… I hope we don’t get caught! *elbow jab under the table*
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I strongly think that Ms. psycho not sit there, or at lease look out for the GRIMs.
I would like tea and porridge!
*pours tea on porridge*
Does this taste good?
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The Man for AEIOU in Post Number Eighty-Five: Good heavens, where are your table manners, and your grammar, for that matter? Nonetheless, I agree; Ms. Psycho should descend from her seat immediately. Wait a minute! Ms. Psycho has a “hyperlink” to an outside web site! GRIMs, is that acceptable?
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Certainly not. Miss Psycho, I assume this infraction resulted from negligence rather than from deliberate disobedience. Please desist immediately.
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A Hyper Link? How did it get there?
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Very simply.
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OK. So I just so totally looked at the picture of the GRIMS again and they look absolutely hilarious. I mean, seriously. Hah! SERIOUSLY! *amuses self* Like those freakishly old (probubly lived in the dark ages) people could really stop me from eating cheese.
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Ms. Kiwimuncher in Post Number Ninety: Please stop that aggravating snickering at once. This is a respectable establishment.
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