Rod, as a steward of aunt Humperdink’s club, is expected to break up brawls between guests, but the initial effects of drinking half a jug of Juan’s Special Reserve have not worn off, and he remains frozen, his brain an empty sporran.
Maulingly behind schedule, I take a short cut through the garden, where I spot two men, waving their swords around. I place Rod in between them, to keep them apart. However, it turns out that they are having a peaceable discussion about the best method of shining a blade. This is embarrassing and, to make it worse, before I can apologise, Juan turns up from nowhere and, thinking that there is a brawl in progress, attacks everyone in sight.
Surveying the carnage, we decide to sneak away. As Rod is still standing, we leave him behind. When he regains consciousness, Rod might have a bit of explaining to do, but he will not remember anything, and we will be in the clear. To celebrate a good decision, we open a barrel of Vintage Tamnavulin Private Reserve and, after offering toast after toast to all sword cleaners, we run back to the bar, as fast as we possibly can.
Professor Humperdink’s Diary