Chapter Seven
Trapped on the Golf Course
"Are you any good at golf, Blackadder?" Bertie asked as the pair strolled down the lawn towards the golf course.
"Not really, sir. I've played a few times, but have never really taken a liking to it," said Blackadder.
"Ah, well. You'll be pleased to know that your master here is an expert golfer! Yes, the Woosters have long been known for their skills on the golf course. Personally, I'm at my best when using my putter," Bertie said.
"I'm sure you are, sir," Blackadder replied, resisting making an obvious rude joke. They finally approached the group at the golf course. There, on the course, was Sir Roderick Spode, Sir Watkyn Bassett, Gussie Finknottle, Madeline Bassett, Kevin Darling, and Aunt Agatha.
"What-ho, everyone!" said Bertie with excitement.
"Ah, Wooster! So glad you could join us!" said Spode with mock happiness.
"Hello, Bertie!" said Gussie, "You can team with me! That way we can play in pairs!"
"No, no! I want to pair up with Wooster!" said Spode.
"But you're already playing with Sir Watkyn!" said Gussie.
"Well, it's MY birthday, so I get to decide," Spode demanded.
"Why don't you just play in threes!" said Aunt Agatha, "Mr. Blackadder and I will sit out and watch. Is that alright with you, Mr. Blackadder?"
"Yes, of course," Blackadder said. So Bertie was teamed up with his two most unlikely partners, Sir Roderick and Sir Watkyn. He was very displeased with this arrangement, but as they played, he became relieved. Sir Watkyn and Sir Roderick were both extraordinary players, and despite Bertie's failings, their team was doing quite well. Gussie, Madeline, and especially Darling were doing quite dreadfully.
"What's the matter, Darling?" shouted Spode at one point, "Don't they have golf in France?" He and Sir Watkyn laughed. Bertie was having a grand time. So much so, that he failed to notice Blackadder and Aunt Agatha in deep conversation the entire time.
When they came to the tenth hole, Gussie called a time out for their team to clear up their strategy. Finally, Bertie would discover why Spode and Watkyn had treated him so nicely. The three of them huddled by a bench, with Blackadder and Aunt Agatha close by.
"It makes me sick to my stomach watching them!" said Sir Watkyn.
Bertie glanced at Gussie, Madeline, and Kevin who were huddled several yards away. "I don't see why? We're winning!"
"I don't care about this blasted game, you fool!" said Sir Watkyn, "It's HIM! I don't want him marrying my daughter! I can't even bear the thought of it!"
"Why? Because of his silly name?" asked Bertie.
"It is a girlish name, sir," said Blackadder, "But I think I may understand why Sir Watkyn wouldn't want Darling in his family. He is French, sir."
"Exactly! I don't want a puffed up Frenchman in my family! Can you imagine it, Roderick?" said Watkyn.
"Terrible, sir. Terrible!" said Spode, "That's where you come in, Bertie!" Bertie's face showed both utter perplexity and the horror over what he knew must be coming. "We need you to break them up!"
"What?" asked Bertie.
"Break them up! Stop their damn fool engagement in its tracks! I'd rather Madeline marry Finknottle than that Frenchman!" said Watkyn.
"I will not! I will have no part in ruining that poor girl's marriage!" insisted Bertie, overconfidently.
"You didn't seem to have any problem with ruining her marriage to me!" said Spode, getting very angry.
"Now, see here, Spode! I will tell you for the last time! That was not my fault! It was that fool, Tuppy Glossop! I will not be made your puppet anymore! Bertram Wooster will not be pushed around by the likes of you," Bertie proclaimed.
Aunt Agatha approached. "Shut up, Bertie! You will do as you are told! You have the rest of today to break up that marriage! Otherwise, you will be so poor you'll have to ask that wretched creature of a servant of Blackadder's for clothes! Do I make myself clear, Bertie?"
"Now wait a minute! You never really wanted me here for your birthday at all, did you Spode? You all called me here just to do your dirty work!" said Bertie, outraged. The three of them smiled.
Watkyn spoke. "But of course, being the fool that you are, you went and fired the best valet in London, and now he's working for that Frenchman. We all know he was the clever one. He was the one who could come up with a perfect scheme to separate Madeline from that frog. Now, we must rely on a complete nitwit to save my daughter!"
"I beg your pardon? I'll have you know, that Jeeves wasn't always the brains behi..."
But Aunt Agatha interrupted Bertie, "Do not worry, Sir Watkyn. I have been chatting with Mr. Blackadder here. It seems he's quite a clever man himself. Perhaps even more cunning than Jeeves."
"Madame, with all due respect," Blackadder began, "a chimpanzee who had recently been stabbed in the head by a sharp spear and subsequently had to have his brain replaced by a baked potato would be more cunning than Reginald Jeeves. I've seen more clever cockroaches in the basement of my last master. But in all seriousness, you are looking at one of the most cunning minds in all of England. No man alive or dead could ever hope to match the sheer wit, resourcefulness, and brilliance of Edmund Blackadder."
"So, you can help Wooster break up the marriage?" said a hopeful Spode.
"Sir, even as we speak a plan is forming in my mind that is sharp enough to skin a cat," Blackadder promised.
Trapped on the Golf Course
"Are you any good at golf, Blackadder?" Bertie asked as the pair strolled down the lawn towards the golf course.
"Not really, sir. I've played a few times, but have never really taken a liking to it," said Blackadder.
"Ah, well. You'll be pleased to know that your master here is an expert golfer! Yes, the Woosters have long been known for their skills on the golf course. Personally, I'm at my best when using my putter," Bertie said.
"I'm sure you are, sir," Blackadder replied, resisting making an obvious rude joke. They finally approached the group at the golf course. There, on the course, was Sir Roderick Spode, Sir Watkyn Bassett, Gussie Finknottle, Madeline Bassett, Kevin Darling, and Aunt Agatha.
"What-ho, everyone!" said Bertie with excitement.
"Ah, Wooster! So glad you could join us!" said Spode with mock happiness.
"Hello, Bertie!" said Gussie, "You can team with me! That way we can play in pairs!"
"No, no! I want to pair up with Wooster!" said Spode.
"But you're already playing with Sir Watkyn!" said Gussie.
"Well, it's MY birthday, so I get to decide," Spode demanded.
"Why don't you just play in threes!" said Aunt Agatha, "Mr. Blackadder and I will sit out and watch. Is that alright with you, Mr. Blackadder?"
"Yes, of course," Blackadder said. So Bertie was teamed up with his two most unlikely partners, Sir Roderick and Sir Watkyn. He was very displeased with this arrangement, but as they played, he became relieved. Sir Watkyn and Sir Roderick were both extraordinary players, and despite Bertie's failings, their team was doing quite well. Gussie, Madeline, and especially Darling were doing quite dreadfully.
"What's the matter, Darling?" shouted Spode at one point, "Don't they have golf in France?" He and Sir Watkyn laughed. Bertie was having a grand time. So much so, that he failed to notice Blackadder and Aunt Agatha in deep conversation the entire time.
When they came to the tenth hole, Gussie called a time out for their team to clear up their strategy. Finally, Bertie would discover why Spode and Watkyn had treated him so nicely. The three of them huddled by a bench, with Blackadder and Aunt Agatha close by.
"It makes me sick to my stomach watching them!" said Sir Watkyn.
Bertie glanced at Gussie, Madeline, and Kevin who were huddled several yards away. "I don't see why? We're winning!"
"I don't care about this blasted game, you fool!" said Sir Watkyn, "It's HIM! I don't want him marrying my daughter! I can't even bear the thought of it!"
"Why? Because of his silly name?" asked Bertie.
"It is a girlish name, sir," said Blackadder, "But I think I may understand why Sir Watkyn wouldn't want Darling in his family. He is French, sir."
"Exactly! I don't want a puffed up Frenchman in my family! Can you imagine it, Roderick?" said Watkyn.
"Terrible, sir. Terrible!" said Spode, "That's where you come in, Bertie!" Bertie's face showed both utter perplexity and the horror over what he knew must be coming. "We need you to break them up!"
"What?" asked Bertie.
"Break them up! Stop their damn fool engagement in its tracks! I'd rather Madeline marry Finknottle than that Frenchman!" said Watkyn.
"I will not! I will have no part in ruining that poor girl's marriage!" insisted Bertie, overconfidently.
"You didn't seem to have any problem with ruining her marriage to me!" said Spode, getting very angry.
"Now, see here, Spode! I will tell you for the last time! That was not my fault! It was that fool, Tuppy Glossop! I will not be made your puppet anymore! Bertram Wooster will not be pushed around by the likes of you," Bertie proclaimed.
Aunt Agatha approached. "Shut up, Bertie! You will do as you are told! You have the rest of today to break up that marriage! Otherwise, you will be so poor you'll have to ask that wretched creature of a servant of Blackadder's for clothes! Do I make myself clear, Bertie?"
"Now wait a minute! You never really wanted me here for your birthday at all, did you Spode? You all called me here just to do your dirty work!" said Bertie, outraged. The three of them smiled.
Watkyn spoke. "But of course, being the fool that you are, you went and fired the best valet in London, and now he's working for that Frenchman. We all know he was the clever one. He was the one who could come up with a perfect scheme to separate Madeline from that frog. Now, we must rely on a complete nitwit to save my daughter!"
"I beg your pardon? I'll have you know, that Jeeves wasn't always the brains behi..."
But Aunt Agatha interrupted Bertie, "Do not worry, Sir Watkyn. I have been chatting with Mr. Blackadder here. It seems he's quite a clever man himself. Perhaps even more cunning than Jeeves."
"Madame, with all due respect," Blackadder began, "a chimpanzee who had recently been stabbed in the head by a sharp spear and subsequently had to have his brain replaced by a baked potato would be more cunning than Reginald Jeeves. I've seen more clever cockroaches in the basement of my last master. But in all seriousness, you are looking at one of the most cunning minds in all of England. No man alive or dead could ever hope to match the sheer wit, resourcefulness, and brilliance of Edmund Blackadder."
"So, you can help Wooster break up the marriage?" said a hopeful Spode.
"Sir, even as we speak a plan is forming in my mind that is sharp enough to skin a cat," Blackadder promised.