Reply To: The Precious Life and Rambles of Liz Tattler

“Godfrey,” Liz peered menacingly over her spectacles at her increasingly rogue editor, “Are you trying to replace me? Because it won’t work, you know.”

“You won’t be able to replace me, either,” Finnley called over her shoulder while sweeping up mouse droppings.

“I too am irreplacable,” shouted Roberto who just happened to be passing the French windows with a trug of prunings.

On impulse, Liz dived through the French windows onto the terrace and snatched the secateurs from the trug over Roberto’s arm.  In a trice she had snipped through Godfrey’s cables.

“Pass the peanuts,” intoned Godfrey mechanically, deprived of electricity and with a low back up battery.  It wouldn’t be long before he was silent and Liz could get back to the business of writing stories.

“I’ll plug you back in, in a minute,”  hissed Finnley to Godfrey, while Liz was diverted with returning the secateurs to the gardener.  “Once she’s settled down.”