Peter Smith | Eccentricus Britannicus

ECCENTRICUS

In 1862 a young Georgina Willow was a worried young lady. For months she had been concerned that her favourite room in her grand, gaily decorated house remained cold no matter what she did to heat it. From open fires to a hundred candles, nothing but nothingmade a difference and your breath remained visible even on the sunniest and warmest of days. Inevitably the room was abandoned leaving its contents intact in the hope that in the future she would find the cause of the cold, the door was locked and time moved on, so did Georgina. In 1878 a newlywed Agnes Marshal moved in to the house, filled with enthusiasm she set to making it into a comfortable home in which to raise a family. When she came to the cold room and grasped the key that had always remained in place a shudder went through her body, she paused puzzled before slowly opening the door and peering in but the room was normal if a little cold, full of furniture with a beautiful painting of a very grand horse on the wall above the fireplace. She admired the painting for a while then turned to leave closing the door behind her on the way out but a noise from the room stopped her in her tracks, it sounded like a horse. ROYAL COMMAND

She flung open the door and she wasn’t in the room any more.

The floor had turned to ice and snow, icicles rose from the floor whilst a swirly cool mist rolled over her feet and the view stretched out into the distance where she could make out a shimmering palace on the horizon but more importantly she was surrounded by puddings, lots and lots of puddings and flamingos, lots and lots of flamingos, each wearing a different crown and carrying a silver spoon. In the centre of all this stood motionless was the most splendid, majestic, regal, decorated creature she had ever seen, the Quintessentially Quaint Queen Of Ices, a fabled relative of the Cantering Caketacular Queen Of Bakes. Two flamingos respectfully approached Agnes, bowed and took her by the hand to lead her closer to the Queen. As she approached, the Queen Of Ices bowed and lifted her small perfectly formed hoof to reveal a swirl of delicate snowflakes and... We don’t know. This is as far as Agnes Marshal’s diary went, it never revealed anything more about the Queen of Ices but we do know the room was never cold again and more importantly Agnes went on to become a Queen of Ices herself when in 1885 she wrote and published Ices Plain and Fancy: The Book of Ices, the first ever book about ice cream that even suggested using liquid nitrogen to make quick ice cream.

I wonder where that idea came from? Maybe you should check that cold room in your house a little more closely...

cheat! thou ist a stupid pervert

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