3.
“This morning’s meeting of the Directors of the Brampton Investment Bank is called to order,” intoned Head Director, Silas A. Thrift, as he rapped his gavel on the venerable 400-year-old dark mahogany desk at which he and his four colleagues were seated.
“First order of business is an application for a short-term business loan submitted by Lord and Lady Wragg of Cruxton to underwrite the preliminary expense of organizing and staging a … [pause] … uh … a production called … uh … “The Cruxton Abbey Judicial Punishments and Executions through the Ages Live Reenactments Review”. The request is for a short term loan of £315,000 repayable at an interest rate of eighteen and a half percent on its maturity 90 days hence.”
“Most unusual!” Grumbled the other four bank officials in unison as with heads bowed they rustled through the stack of submitted loan application papers placed before each of them.
“Perhaps Lord Wragg would care to enlighten the Board as to precisely what this is all about?” Suggested the Head Director, tenting his hands, leaning forward and adding a well-practiced, skeptical-looking frown to his countenance.
“Indeed. The background to this is that Lady Wragg and I are in a bit of a financial tight spot, you see. We need to raise enough cash quickly to keep our hereditary home, Cruxton Abbey, out of the hands of our creditors and quite likely the National Trust, thus ending the nearly six centuries long run in which the property has been handed down for through the Wragg family and served well the good folk of Cruxton, and surrounds, by providing steady employment within its walls and grounds.”
“A noble cause, we might all agree, Lord Wragg, but we need to know more about this money-making scheme you wish the Bank to underwrite.”
“Of course. After bringing in an accomplished German consultant, Lady Wragg and I have come up with a brilliant plan that we feel is certain to bring in gobs of money.”
“Enlighten us.”
“Of course. Our plan is to prey upon certain, shall we say ‘‘prurient’ interests that are out there … namely a fascination among certain elements of the public with regard to the perils and horrors experienced through the ages by fair young maidens and damsels subjected to public punishments, tortures, and executions. It’s the kind of fascination that brings people to dungeon torture museums. The difference here, and we would argue a sure money-maker, is that we audaciously propose to put on a once in a lifetime, live … and in some cases even participatory … event, set within the walls and grounds of a genuine historic English manor.”
“A novel concept, we have to admit. But tell us more about how this would work. Where are you going to find, for example, the maidens and damsels willing to put their nubile young bodies to the rack or the whipping post, or worse? We can well imagine that, if they had any sense at all, they’d each demand of you an exorbitant fee. And where then would the profit be?”
“I believe I can answer that one, Mr Thrift,” intervened Lady Wragg.”
“Well, yes, please do.”
“We plan to make use of the young female staff currently employed at Cruxton Abbey … you know, the chamber maids, parlor maids, scullery girls, and the like. They’re already paid as staff, we’d just add this to their duties and the project would incur no additional expense.”
“And they’ve agreed to this?”
“Well, they’ve not much choice in the matter, now do they? To refuse, would mean they’d be quite out of work. So, yes, they are all agreed … well not quite all … our Barbara, as is her wont, is as usual insisting on being contrary. But, I can assure you that after spending a long dark night suspended by her wrists in the cellar dungeon she’s quite certain to come around. Moreover, we expect some of our paying clientele to wish, quite eagerly I dare say, to participate in the proceedings and either as victims or as torturers and executioners. And we intend, of course, to charge them a hefty fee for the privilege.
“Quite.”
“Our real need here, if I may,” interjected Wragg, “is to meet the preparatory costs. The constructing of sets, for example. While Cruxton Abbey already possesses a dungeon, it’s much too small and ill-equipped for what we envision. There’s also the need to prearrange and engage artistic direction, see to costuming, cater in food and refreshments, engage in promotional advertising, contract for memorabilia concessions, staff and equip properly for video production, arrange for grounds clean up, and the like. That’s why we need upfront funding from your institution.”
“I see. As Bank Directors, it’s our duty, as I expect you and Lady Wragg can appreciate, to be quite certain that your rather unique production will actually turn a profit. And speaking for my colleagues I think it’s safe to say, there’s serious reason for doubt, given the … uh … shall we say ‘novelty’, possibly even the immorality, of what you propose.”
“Your reticence is understood, even expected, of course. But we seriously wish to win you over. Tell us what, at this point, Lady Wragg and I might say that would assure us of a favorable decision.”
“Well, yes … a rather delicate matter, to be sure. And as this institution has never, in its long and storied history, accepted anything approaching outright bribery, perhaps I can suggest something more subtle. What would you say to … uh … five free admissions to the event, and perhaps a private dungeon session with … uh, what was her name … the parlor maid Lady Wragg mentioned …. oh, yes, it was Barb, wasn’t it?”
“I’m certain she’d be delighted!” Declared Lady Wragg.
“Then I believe, we can do business. Congratulations! Oh, and you wouldn’t possibly have a photo to share of this parlor maid, Barb, would you?”
“Thank you! I can assure you that the Bank will be paid in full.” Chorused the Wraggs.
“And we’re quite certain some photos of Barb can be arranged,” added Lady Wragg. “Would you prefer that she pose fully clothed or scantily attired?”
“Oh both would be fine, and even less might be nice too.”
TBC
Yum. (I am a sucker for French fries / Pommes Frites, Chips or whatever anyone calls them.)
