Bryan's Page

Ah, bonjour, mes amis. Yes, it is I, Bryan Beru von Limpsfield, now with my very own page on the old "intermouse" or what-have-you, where I can finally refute once and for all the vile calumny and gross misrepresentation of my upstanding character proffered in that tuppenny potboiler The Marmalade Shore.

"If 'tis libelous, why have you not sued?" is perhaps the riddle at the forefront of your mind. Aye, Horatio, that is the question! Whether 'tis nobler to suffer the slings and arrows of outrageous slander, or to engage one's attorney in a sea of litigation? Well, clearly the latter, only my counsel is somewhat tied-up right now with matters concerning my dear mother's estate, matters of some urgency given her advanced frailty.

Yet, where to start in attacking that cornucopia of deceit? For one thing, page 40 of that tawdry octavo states that I was nursing a glass of white port, whereas anyone that knows even the smallest detail about my person would know that I favour for my aperitif a very particular brand of Andalucian Manzanilla. Of course, you will have swiftly inferred that this is but the tip of a veritable iceberg of mendacity; there are countless other inaccuries that I shall not bore you with, since the very fact that you are here at all defines you as an individual of taste and discernment, and not at all the kind that might be lulled into falsehood by vulgar and chintzy prose.

Indeed, I expect that you are at least as appalled as I am that such dishonour, such infamy might be attributed to an innocent through the medium of pulp fiction, and you are probably wondering what you can do, right now, to assist me in the fight for justice. To this end you will be pleased to learn that I accept paypal.