As usual our Madame Borgia isn't happy.
Fortunately at least for this particular instance, I'm not the one in her target range. According to the incredibly efficient servants' rumour mill, it seems the new palace isn't entirely to her liking. Despite hiring the finest astrologers and necromancers to find the location of her new demesne ( not to mention the timing of the move ), Madame Borgia hadn't quite counted on a matter of taste.
Something even the best of feng shui masters can't quite predict from their endless esoteric diagrams. So you can imagine the absolute uproar when she finally alighted from her carriage to find everything in the new palace absolutely insufferable.
Paul : Exactly what does she dislike? The location?
Calvin : She hates that.
Paul : The building?
Calvin : She hates that.
Paul : The doors? The windows?
Calvin : Hates.
Paul : Surely not the entire building.
Calvin : She hates the doors. She hates the windows. She hates the rooms. She hates the colours. She hates the garden.
Paul : Wow.
Turns out it's all hate at the moment. Someone even said she was that close to murderously stabbing all her retainers with her hairpins in a fit of uncontrollable rage.
Doubt you could put it more succinctly. For someone who was absolutely adamant on the move initially, Madame Borgia seems to have made a contrary turnaround. Short of demolishing the entire palace for a new one to be built ( surely never in time for the said auspicious dates! ), there doesn't seem very much else that can be done.
Since her children never could talk her into anything, it was up to me to spin this palace fiasco into something a little more positive. Not that Herculean a task seeing that all Madame Borgia wanted was some constructive advice on her admittedly ambitious interior decorating plans.
I managed to talk her into keeping the shell of the building at the very least. Minus almost everything else.
Fortunately at least for this particular instance, I'm not the one in her target range. According to the incredibly efficient servants' rumour mill, it seems the new palace isn't entirely to her liking. Despite hiring the finest astrologers and necromancers to find the location of her new demesne ( not to mention the timing of the move ), Madame Borgia hadn't quite counted on a matter of taste.
Something even the best of feng shui masters can't quite predict from their endless esoteric diagrams. So you can imagine the absolute uproar when she finally alighted from her carriage to find everything in the new palace absolutely insufferable.
Paul : Exactly what does she dislike? The location?
Calvin : She hates that.
Paul : The building?
Calvin : She hates that.
Paul : The doors? The windows?
Calvin : Hates.
Paul : Surely not the entire building.
Calvin : She hates the doors. She hates the windows. She hates the rooms. She hates the colours. She hates the garden.
Paul : Wow.
Turns out it's all hate at the moment. Someone even said she was that close to murderously stabbing all her retainers with her hairpins in a fit of uncontrollable rage.
 |
| Paul : Don't see anything wrong with the palace! I like it. Calvin : You wanna buy it? Paul : I'm not gonna give you money for it if that's what you mean. |
Since her children never could talk her into anything, it was up to me to spin this palace fiasco into something a little more positive. Not that Herculean a task seeing that all Madame Borgia wanted was some constructive advice on her admittedly ambitious interior decorating plans.
I managed to talk her into keeping the shell of the building at the very least. Minus almost everything else.
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