Butler down

By Tiber

Brunty, my parents’ butler, went missing today.

We’d had some people over last night and they had wanted to try to negotiate the big maze we have out in back.

Dad always gives guests a bottle of wine and a corkscrew so they can at least have a drink if they get lost. But these guests got out of the maze in record time and they left the bottle of wine behind.

When Brunty went into the maze this morning to retrieve the glasses, he’d found the wine and decided to drink it himself.

“Didn’t want it to spoil, sir,” he’d told Dad. (Since unopened wine evidently has the same shelf-life as milk).

We finally found Brunty this afternoon because we could hear him, holed up in the maze and yelling wildly at the birds. Obviously, he’d been passed out.

Under the impression that Hitchcock’s film, “The Birds” was a documentary, Brunty kept insisting that the birds screaming today meant they were preparing for a big attack.

Dad said actually the birds weren’t ”screaming” so much as “chirping”  and maybe Brunty just had a hangover instead.

Mrs. Brunty, the housekeeper, (as well as Brunty’s wife) was mortified by the whole thing. She apologized to Dad and said that at least for today, her husband probably wouldn’t be “on his game.”

I think we can manage. For all anyone can see, Brunty’s “game” pretty much consists of  just sitting around and occasionally polishing something.

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