Revenge: The Classy Way

Allow me to regale upon to thee a tale of a great atrocity. It happened several years ago in the Blood Parlour (a room in which the finest of gentleman talk over the sampling of blood taken from various rare and fancy sources) of my favourite social gathering place, the Dubious GentleMansion. Like a jewel-encrusted thorn in my neck, the memory of this event is rather unpleasant but I am simply unable to throw it away because of it’s indescribable value to me. Also, pulling memories hurts like a bitch.

Whilst talking over our collection of ancient Peruvian diamond skulls, my friend General Maximus G. Oppenheimerson was struck most deviously by the tray of a waiter who had tripped over an armadillo. His vest now stained with the blood of Pauly Shore (1994, a good year), I fully expected Max to unleash upon him a furious volley of fists and cocks so fierce that the gods themselves may lay awake trembling for months at the thought of it. Instead, he helped the waiter to his feet and allowed him to escape without a single broken bone or gypsy curse. It then occured to me that revenge is an art form lost in this day and age, an artform that I must bring back to the slovenly masses.

Like my friend there, you’ve probably all been done wrong yourself by lower beings such as waiters, butlers and Mexicans. But how does one go about thrashing, pillaging, and raping their way back to the top, like a true gentleman? With a half glass of brandy and an iron cock? Yes, but it’s more complex than that. Not much more.

These are the 5 Commandments of Avenging. You may wish to have the nearest servant or team of children carve these into a stone tablet to preserve their aura of unmoving truth and radness.

1. Intimidation- always begin a confrontation by cleaning your monocle on your suit jacket, or with an embroidered handkerchief, and staring hard.

2. Elegance- always be dressed in your finest, hand stitched garments. The evident child labour will show them who’s boss. And who feels silky. Man silky.

3. Mystery- speak only in riddles. You’ll find the tension quickly builds, and you could puzzle them into submission.

4. Class- real men don’t fight with sticks or guns. They employ animals. With guns.

5. Irony- you must exact your revenge in much the same manner as the wrong-doer wronged you. For example, should your 70 year old cleaning lady accidentally sweep some dust into your brandy, simply pummel her into dust (a job conveniently half done by the merciless revenge of age). If all else fails, use your cane (be creative!).

One last tip! Remember your ancestors: cannons, bayonets and vaudeville. Now that’s class!

The Commandments can be confusing at times though as they we’re written back in the pre-top hat era. Here are some examples for us better drobed individuals.

REVENGIE At a Urinal
As a gentlemen you will try to avoid these public disgraces as much as possible, but in the event of an unlikely encounter with your rival while your Brandywine River is flowing, a duel of wits and brawn may and will take place. Now, your base and man-tastic instincts may be to urinate all over his pants, but as rad as this may be, you must retain your gentleman reputation. A little on his shoe will suffice here.

Rule the first is most important in this situation, because any man, gentleman or otherwise, is most vulnerable dong out. Thus, even if your enemy enters mid-stream, you must employ the intimidation technique. If the blasphemer doesn’t retreat after a daring stare and heroic glass wipe, you will be forced to employ the “Nature’s Lullaby” technique, which is simply to updo trou, and swiftly bring together his cranium with the porcelain piss-tank, and proceed to exit the facilities, whistling your favourite ragtime postmortem tune.

REVENGE On a Train
Mystery is the key to this vehicular vengeance, for where is it more classy to speak entirely in riddles than whilst sipping a brandy glass, first class on a train? Enter into your opponent’s shabby cabin, your cane-sword in tow. Begin with a simple riddle, something like:

“Riddle me this, hamwad! Your mother, laquered in the finest of syrups, screams ‘Oh! Put it INTO me!’ What is she referring to? I will give you clue: it’s over 15 inches long and I’m about to bludgeon you to death with it! Correct, it’s my DOUBLE NECK GUITAR.”

After the assailant is subdued, destroy his mortal soul by playing songs by Candian Prog Rockers Rush. Don’t worry if you don’t know all the notes, as long as your guitar is made out of compressed 100 dollar bills, whatever you play will be menacing enough to ensure he doesn’t come back as a ghost or wight.

There you have it. So the next time someone without their own space shuttle touches you on a plane, you now know how to make sure they learn their lesson and never do that — or anything — again. The classy way.

PS Several undoubtable truths in this post were scribed by none other than fellow richdude Keith McLean. Praise his greatness or be smited by his… well, greatness.

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