FA+
Shop
439
Views
Views
3
Favorites
Favorites
Category
Story / General Furry Art
Species Cervine (Other)
Size 932 x 1280
File Size 257.5 kB
Report this content
More from Walt46
Listed in Folders
Very Fawnedly Yours
© 2013 by Walter Reimer
(All characters courtesy of
EOCostello, 
MercMarten and 
Major Matt Mason. Any resemblance between characters depicted herein and any real person, living or dead, is too bad for them.)
The setting is Spontoon Island, in the story section Let's Doe It (Let's Fall In Love).
Art by
turnbolt
__________________________________________________
Part 29.
Willow:
Reggie and I got back from the Lake District late Sunday afternoon. As we got settled back in and enjoyed some tea, I noticed my beloved looking a bit pensive.
“Are you all right, Reggie?”
“Hmm? I’m fine, Willow.” He leaned over and patted my paw, then leaned closer and we kissed.
“You don’t look fine. You look like there’s something on your mind.”
“Well, yes – dash it all, there is something on my mind, y’know.”
“Work?”
Reggie acknowledged the truth of this with a nod. “Just going over a few things in my mind for Monday.”
“Well, a problem shared is a problem halved – and I know what the problem is.”
He told me.
And I smiled at him before we both started laughing.
***
Gwladys:
To his credit, Paul had acted swiftly despite his bottle of champagne, and quickly mustered the yacht’s crew to fish Josslyn out of the harbor. Towels and brandy were readied.
My husband was having none of it. Despite being dripping wet he waved away all attempts to dry him off and glared at Paul as he put his monocle back in. “You did that on purpose!” he thundered, and resisted all efforts by the duCledses to make amends.
Needless to say, we left shortly afterward, taking a taxi back to the hotel.
The next day Joss stayed in bed, surrounded by a defensive rampart of newspapers and fortified by strong coffee and orange juice. As far as I knew (and I should know) my husband hadn’t been sick a day in his life, but he was taking no chances at all.
I concluded that he was still apprehensive about Reggie and possibly ending up being replaced by his son.
I was happy to leave Joss to his hypochondria, and stopped by the branch of the Banque d’Ibex.
Of course, the staff knew me on sight, and the bank’s manager attended to me personally. Yes, he had heard of Clementina. No, he was unaware that it was in difficulties, but you know how these things are, Madame. Yes, it would be a matter of moments to verify the possible sale price, and of course Madame has access to her accounts at all times, and would Madame like some tea while she waits?
I told the man that I had an errand to take care of, and that the information should be sent on to the hotel. The manager assured me that it would be in my paws before lunchtime. I thanked the man and headed back to the hotel to lay in wait.
Sure enough, Celestine Belette-Cornee was out by the pool, and I took advantage of the fact that her usual swarm of admirers were not around (probably still sleeping) to introduce myself and strike up a conversation.
Oh, my.
Ten minutes of conversation convinced me that one of the root causes of her financial difficulties lay in the fact that she quite literally had marshmallow fluff for brains. I’ve met a few like her in my lifetime, so I took it slowly.
I never want to be accused of taking advantage of someone (not even my mate) for financial gain.
Celestine called her lawyer in, an elderly badger with a stately and particularly long-suffering air about him. I ordered lunch – on me – and we settled down to talk business.
It seemed that certain creditors had gathered over the firm, but they would back down if a buyer could attain either a majority or a strong minority position in the company. Either was acceptable to the company’s board, provided that Mlle. Belette-Cornee was no longer in charge of the company or her voting stock.
Fortunately, the franc is a bit depressed against the pound, let alone the dollar, so I was able to make an attractive offer. In exchange for the mademoiselle’s stock, I would pay enough to settle a managed annuity on her that would enable her to maintain her in the life to which she – and her various male hangers-on - had become accustomed.
At least she wouldn’t have to go back to the Folies-Bergere.
When we finished our talk, I smiled, and made my offer.
***
Josslyn:
Ah-choo!
Drat it.
Last thing I need is a cold.
Give ‘em no excuse to set me aside, not even for a minute.
Well, it’s the weekend. This trip will be over soon. Now, to see what I can do to get back at that blasted canine . . .
***
Gwladys:
After lunch I went up to see how Joss was doing, and found him hard at work, trying to think of a way to get revenge on Paul duCleds.
“Well! It’s good to see that you’re feeling better.”
“No thanks to that tail-wagging idiot.”
I let this pass, and took out a bottle of Clementina, and poured two glasses.
“What’s this?” he challenged as I gave him his glass.
“It’s exactly the same soft drink I asked you to try yesterday, Joss. Now, drink up. With its mix of fruit and vegetable juices, it should do you good.”
He looked at it a bit suspiciously (again), sniffed and drank.
"Harumph. Tasty enough, I suppose."
"Glad you think so. I just bought the company."
He almost lost his monocle. “WHAT?!”
“I said, I bought the company. Rather a bargain, really.” I explained what I had done.
Joss subsided, grumbling. "So you made a deal?"
"In under an hour, stock certificate is in my purse."
"How much?"
"You don't need to know that."
He grumbled.
"Besides, the certificate is in both our names. We'll have it transferred to the main company when we get back to London."
He picked up the bottle, squinting at the label. He looked up at me. "Was it at least worth it?"
“Oh yes. We should do handsomely out of it. I think we can do better at trying to break into North American markets by starting small, in Quebec.”
“Quebec?”
“Well, they do speak French there, so it’s a natural fit. Then we start selling it in America over the winter.”
Joss thought it over, and nodded.
I opened a second bottle, refilled his glass and clinked my glass with his.
“To your health, dear, and our success."
***
Reggie:
I got in to work early that Monday morning, with a few plans in mind. I spent the first half-hour or so at my desk, and I had sat back to do a little thinking when a thought occurred to me.
Mind you, I’m not much of an adventurous type, but since I would (eventually) end up owning this building and everything in it, I decided to take a few minutes and do some exploring.
The top story I was aware of, the executive offices, boardrooms and roof garden. I started going down one floor at a time, poking my nose in to see what was there.
The place was really quite well laid out. Maximum efficiency.
It suited the Sire’s frame of mind very well.
The surprise came when I entered the basement. I had equipped myself with a torch in case there were any dark corners to be lit, in the best tradition of the Fawn’s Own stories.
There weren’t any dark corners, which was reassuring.
But there was a door a few steps away from the boilers, painted a dark English racing green.
Inside was a shower, and another closed door. A suit was hanging up in a small niche nearby, with towels and toiletries on shelves. It all looked terribly well-maintained and clean.
Someone was inside, because I could hear that someone whistling.
Holding the torch, I knocked.
The whistling stopped.
“Come in!”
I thought I recognized the voice, so I opened the door.
Good Lord.
***
Gwladys:
It seemed that Josslyn wanted to start heading home that Monday morning, and I have to confess that I was looking forward to England. Since I had bought that company, I resolved that I would not be purchasing anything from Paris for the fall season. Between the new stadium in Philadelphia and the Clementina purchase, I was still in the black, but not by much.
So we settled accounts with the hotel and made ready to board the Train Bleu. While we were boarding I saw Celestine, accompanied by a dashing-looking wolf in military uniform.
I pointed her out to Joss, and waved her over. “Celestine? I'd like to introduce you to my husband, Josslyn. Josslyn, this is Celestine de Belette-Cornee."
Celestine batted her eyelashes, and giggled.
"Celestine, my mate, Josslyn."
Another round of batting of eyelashes and giggling.
"What are you going to do with the proceeds from the sale, Celestine?"
She again batted her eyelashes, shrugging and giggling as she looked behind and up at her current beau. She happily trotted off, with him in tow.
Two older mels didn't look where they were going, and collided with each other, hard.
Josslyn snorted. “Never thought I'd see a fur with fewer brains than . . . “
“Josslyn . . . “
<PREVIOUS><FIRST><NEXT>
© 2013 by Walter Reimer
(All characters courtesy of
EOCostello, 
MercMarten and 
Major Matt Mason. Any resemblance between characters depicted herein and any real person, living or dead, is too bad for them.)The setting is Spontoon Island, in the story section Let's Doe It (Let's Fall In Love).
Art by
turnbolt__________________________________________________
Part 29.
Willow:
Reggie and I got back from the Lake District late Sunday afternoon. As we got settled back in and enjoyed some tea, I noticed my beloved looking a bit pensive.
“Are you all right, Reggie?”
“Hmm? I’m fine, Willow.” He leaned over and patted my paw, then leaned closer and we kissed.
“You don’t look fine. You look like there’s something on your mind.”
“Well, yes – dash it all, there is something on my mind, y’know.”
“Work?”
Reggie acknowledged the truth of this with a nod. “Just going over a few things in my mind for Monday.”
“Well, a problem shared is a problem halved – and I know what the problem is.”
He told me.
And I smiled at him before we both started laughing.
***
Gwladys:
To his credit, Paul had acted swiftly despite his bottle of champagne, and quickly mustered the yacht’s crew to fish Josslyn out of the harbor. Towels and brandy were readied.
My husband was having none of it. Despite being dripping wet he waved away all attempts to dry him off and glared at Paul as he put his monocle back in. “You did that on purpose!” he thundered, and resisted all efforts by the duCledses to make amends.
Needless to say, we left shortly afterward, taking a taxi back to the hotel.
The next day Joss stayed in bed, surrounded by a defensive rampart of newspapers and fortified by strong coffee and orange juice. As far as I knew (and I should know) my husband hadn’t been sick a day in his life, but he was taking no chances at all.
I concluded that he was still apprehensive about Reggie and possibly ending up being replaced by his son.
I was happy to leave Joss to his hypochondria, and stopped by the branch of the Banque d’Ibex.
Of course, the staff knew me on sight, and the bank’s manager attended to me personally. Yes, he had heard of Clementina. No, he was unaware that it was in difficulties, but you know how these things are, Madame. Yes, it would be a matter of moments to verify the possible sale price, and of course Madame has access to her accounts at all times, and would Madame like some tea while she waits?
I told the man that I had an errand to take care of, and that the information should be sent on to the hotel. The manager assured me that it would be in my paws before lunchtime. I thanked the man and headed back to the hotel to lay in wait.
Sure enough, Celestine Belette-Cornee was out by the pool, and I took advantage of the fact that her usual swarm of admirers were not around (probably still sleeping) to introduce myself and strike up a conversation.
Oh, my.
Ten minutes of conversation convinced me that one of the root causes of her financial difficulties lay in the fact that she quite literally had marshmallow fluff for brains. I’ve met a few like her in my lifetime, so I took it slowly.
I never want to be accused of taking advantage of someone (not even my mate) for financial gain.
Celestine called her lawyer in, an elderly badger with a stately and particularly long-suffering air about him. I ordered lunch – on me – and we settled down to talk business.
It seemed that certain creditors had gathered over the firm, but they would back down if a buyer could attain either a majority or a strong minority position in the company. Either was acceptable to the company’s board, provided that Mlle. Belette-Cornee was no longer in charge of the company or her voting stock.
Fortunately, the franc is a bit depressed against the pound, let alone the dollar, so I was able to make an attractive offer. In exchange for the mademoiselle’s stock, I would pay enough to settle a managed annuity on her that would enable her to maintain her in the life to which she – and her various male hangers-on - had become accustomed.
At least she wouldn’t have to go back to the Folies-Bergere.
When we finished our talk, I smiled, and made my offer.
***
Josslyn:
Ah-choo!
Drat it.
Last thing I need is a cold.
Give ‘em no excuse to set me aside, not even for a minute.
Well, it’s the weekend. This trip will be over soon. Now, to see what I can do to get back at that blasted canine . . .
***
Gwladys:
After lunch I went up to see how Joss was doing, and found him hard at work, trying to think of a way to get revenge on Paul duCleds.
“Well! It’s good to see that you’re feeling better.”
“No thanks to that tail-wagging idiot.”
I let this pass, and took out a bottle of Clementina, and poured two glasses.
“What’s this?” he challenged as I gave him his glass.
“It’s exactly the same soft drink I asked you to try yesterday, Joss. Now, drink up. With its mix of fruit and vegetable juices, it should do you good.”
He looked at it a bit suspiciously (again), sniffed and drank.
"Harumph. Tasty enough, I suppose."
"Glad you think so. I just bought the company."
He almost lost his monocle. “WHAT?!”
“I said, I bought the company. Rather a bargain, really.” I explained what I had done.
Joss subsided, grumbling. "So you made a deal?"
"In under an hour, stock certificate is in my purse."
"How much?"
"You don't need to know that."
He grumbled.
"Besides, the certificate is in both our names. We'll have it transferred to the main company when we get back to London."
He picked up the bottle, squinting at the label. He looked up at me. "Was it at least worth it?"
“Oh yes. We should do handsomely out of it. I think we can do better at trying to break into North American markets by starting small, in Quebec.”
“Quebec?”
“Well, they do speak French there, so it’s a natural fit. Then we start selling it in America over the winter.”
Joss thought it over, and nodded.
I opened a second bottle, refilled his glass and clinked my glass with his.
“To your health, dear, and our success."
***
Reggie:
I got in to work early that Monday morning, with a few plans in mind. I spent the first half-hour or so at my desk, and I had sat back to do a little thinking when a thought occurred to me.
Mind you, I’m not much of an adventurous type, but since I would (eventually) end up owning this building and everything in it, I decided to take a few minutes and do some exploring.
The top story I was aware of, the executive offices, boardrooms and roof garden. I started going down one floor at a time, poking my nose in to see what was there.
The place was really quite well laid out. Maximum efficiency.
It suited the Sire’s frame of mind very well.
The surprise came when I entered the basement. I had equipped myself with a torch in case there were any dark corners to be lit, in the best tradition of the Fawn’s Own stories.
There weren’t any dark corners, which was reassuring.
But there was a door a few steps away from the boilers, painted a dark English racing green.
Inside was a shower, and another closed door. A suit was hanging up in a small niche nearby, with towels and toiletries on shelves. It all looked terribly well-maintained and clean.
Someone was inside, because I could hear that someone whistling.
Holding the torch, I knocked.
The whistling stopped.
“Come in!”
I thought I recognized the voice, so I opened the door.
Good Lord.
***
Gwladys:
It seemed that Josslyn wanted to start heading home that Monday morning, and I have to confess that I was looking forward to England. Since I had bought that company, I resolved that I would not be purchasing anything from Paris for the fall season. Between the new stadium in Philadelphia and the Clementina purchase, I was still in the black, but not by much.
So we settled accounts with the hotel and made ready to board the Train Bleu. While we were boarding I saw Celestine, accompanied by a dashing-looking wolf in military uniform.
I pointed her out to Joss, and waved her over. “Celestine? I'd like to introduce you to my husband, Josslyn. Josslyn, this is Celestine de Belette-Cornee."
Celestine batted her eyelashes, and giggled.
"Celestine, my mate, Josslyn."
Another round of batting of eyelashes and giggling.
"What are you going to do with the proceeds from the sale, Celestine?"
She again batted her eyelashes, shrugging and giggling as she looked behind and up at her current beau. She happily trotted off, with him in tow.
Two older mels didn't look where they were going, and collided with each other, hard.
Josslyn snorted. “Never thought I'd see a fur with fewer brains than . . . “
“Josslyn . . . “
<PREVIOUS><FIRST><NEXT>
Category Story / General Furry Art
Species Cervine (Other)
Size 932 x 1280px
File Size 257.5 kB
Comments