Lola was keen to claim to her inheritance (or “trinkets”), which mainly involved climbing over the undead bodies of other Gefilter-Schleppings and training her team of zombie solicitors Gefilter, Meshugge, Shlemiel & Shtunck on the relatives; chief of which was cousin Reggie.
“Oh hello Reggie aka Bertie,” said Lola in Italics, “here for the reading of the will are we? Well you won’t get anything, you were disinherited centuries ago after that nasty business with the Turks!”
Reggie aka Bertie swung around on his seat in the family “chapel” which had long since been deconsecrated before the Gefilters conquered Transylvestite.
He wore a pencil thin moustache a brightly coloured blazer and flannels, but he wasn’t fooling anyone; he rose in a theatrical manner which suggested that he had once been the owner of a cloak as he drew his arms up in the air as if he were about to take flight and revealed a rather shocking set of canines, until he remembered himself and loped his lupine body over to Bunty and Lola.
“Bunty, meet “Bertie” aka Count Balthazar Goitre Gefilter-Schlepping, he was I believe in the same regiment as the Major and Bingo many years ago.”
At the mention of the Major Bunty once more had a vision of the threshing machine, the major’s stocking clad legs disappearing into its depth, and for the first time Branwell laughing in an evil manner in the threshing shed turning the winch…surely not.
She left her reverie after Lola waved some rather horrid smelling salts under her nose.
“My second best tweed!” she cried, before looking at the strange creature with the elongated face looming above her.
“Stop looming Bertie aka Reggie, we have a guests!” snapped Lola, making a strange gesture against evil with her hand.
“Ah yes, one of the Tuff-Muffin’s of Gusset,” drooled “Bertie” ” yes there were an unaccountable amount of idols and rubies when we were raping the East and the Sub Incontinent of her riches.”
They both shuddered;
“Anyway,” said Lola, “the will is uncontested-I am heir to the fortune by right unless you insist on fighting me for it and you know I’ll win; I’d fight you to the death if it were possible and I didn’t have another more pressing engagement.”
“Lola,” drawled “Bertie aka Reggie” I have little need of temporal things….well apart from the little cushions and objects as I’m now the head of my own interior design company, “Crypts Are Us”.” he said flourishing a card edged in black.
“Oh so that’s where the cushions are from!” said Lola with relief, ” I was a bit worried, but they do look better under in their natural habitat “Bertie”, not in the entrance hall with the remains.”
Bertie aka Reggie, pouted and went back to playing show tunes badly on the enormous organ.
“Lola,” whispered Bunty, “I don’t like this, there are too many connections with “her”, we need to have our meeting pronto!”
“I agree Bunty,” said Lola, “let’s go to the crypt, it’s the safest place in the castle.