Pride And Prejudice

Miss Wicket remarked a bellicose statement, catechizing him for having the temerity to suggest her to be more benevolent, instead of abiding by the stringent rules of her house rentals.

Her betel stained lips spurted out the words with a redolence of rancidity.

Drawing down his hands to the Lilliputian purse, he grasped the mint leaves and forwarded his dainty limbs towards her.

Her draconian nasal gyp gushed out her disgust and she turned around to leave.

Mr.Bean's furrowed brows sought for an appropriate gesture. Thus, decided to apologize.Whilst apologising to Miss Wicket, the one-eyed Scrapper, snapped the portcullis on his face .

Waving goodbye in zephyr, he smiled and left..

Introspecting for his British Leyland 1000 Mini car keys, he, failed to notice Imra Gobb;angrily to which, she tossed her locks, in disgust. Having a sudden glance at the rear oeil-de-boeuf ; he rushed to greet her with a warm cwtch. Bouten, was he and his bear hug brushed aside as frivolous.

Imra reluctantly enquired, " Are we attending the ceremony today ?? "

Flakes of perspiration broke out on his upper lips, glistening, at the hapless locus; he feigned to be copacetic.

His bland simper, irked her.Stepping on his toes, Imra walked past .

Promenading across the bridleway, tirelessly, they reached the destination. 

With his faltering steps, he went up the scaffold.Fumbling, initially, he began to articulate by letting out an ahem "to clear his throat".

Enacting, through his murky craft boulevard of kinesics, in a transit of satirical farce, which baulked at the directive of the landlord's as it intends to strangle free services of laundering, electricity and pluvial supply handouts, as well as thwarts beefing up against these vices.

Shoving him out of the ceremonial event forcefullly, ridiculed him, " You nincompoop, have spoilt the event and the milieu ".

"Thy, asinine demeanour has disparaged me ", hurling abuses at him, in disgust, Imra left.

His recalcitrant gams began to retrograde, his finger peeking-out through moccasin climbed up the flight of stairs in a gadarene rush, from which dust rose at every step, misting his eyes.Tears slithered down his physiognomy.

Peeking through the window orifice,  Mr. Bean, stood there in a state of frenzy, gaping the pigeons, that seethed around him, perched and teetered on his face and hands, furiously scrabbling with their hooked claws, and their gluttonous beaks as if would lacerate the flesh from his bones."Their" greed was monstrous.

Peregrinating across the murky boulevard of dilemma and bamboozlement.Beads of perspiration trickled down the temples of Mr.Bean.Selvaging the enigma hovering over his cerebrum, he regardé at the alabaster Selene's condominium.Tears welled behind his eyelids;of palpitations, woe dribbled.He gazed in awed disbelief at the polished crescent moon.Argentine beams glistened the filigreed tracery of veins on his cheek.His evanesce from baleful thraldom, elopement from woeful incarceration.Was rendered aphasic, earlier.Bouten, then, kinesics succoured.But, naught, coude now.Drook in brown study, his euphonious voice choked.It felt as if he was bitten by thousands of pismire, leaving him bleeding in gelid.

Bear-hugging his Teddy, he bellowed in agony.The abuses, racking and utter disgust perpetrated on him, coerced him to squint his eyes and furrowed glabella to vitrine his conundrum.

Laboured-sound of his breath, snarled at his throat, with some catarrh.His wrinkled-eyelid drooped, ached his tachycardiac-auricle-ventricle;descrying for penumbral-shards of comfort, free speech and expression.

His whimpering, cradled him to sleep.

The auburn hue of Helios' gaze caressed gently over his facade.Bestirring to reach the speculum to espy on his bruises.His disconsolate visage mirrored a face grinning like a cheshire-cat, thrush opening his rational pinions.Whilst, the Teddy looked pleased and Scrapper, sneered, out of the corner of her eye.

Brushing aside, his tears, tried hard to cacchinate, yet his smile drooped like the shrivelled foliage of mimosa-pudica .

Whilst tethering his espadrille, his gams shivered, his feet felt cold-like-ice.

His kohl-sketched eyes glistened in the swathes of claret hue of the pupil, thundering in helplessness.

His betel dyed lips fumbled in disgust.Locking the room, Mr.Bean began to tread down the staircase. 

Peeping through the keyhole, Miss Wicket, made her sudden cameo by the mezzanine floor, sneered and her nasty side glances vomited out her intolerance.

Miss Wicket handed him down an epistle, admonishing him to leave the house and pay her due rent.

Grasping the letter, his lips casted a bleak smile, reluctantly through its blanched corners.

The clink-clank of the rusted ferric oxide gate creaked, the arid zephyr gushed in, playing with his uncombed hair.

Drawing across the street, he was baffled at the sight of an old aged man, descrying for water; under the scorching heat of summer clouds.

Coude see, queues overflowing at a stall, where, sanguine-hued 'sharbat' in telluric-jars, topped with lemons is served.

Flies peregrinated across the skyscraper of crystallized-fruits.

Whilst, all the passersby frowned upon him.

Rushing to succour the old man, Mr. Bean, gave him a vasile, and asked him to rest under the penumbral shard against the sweltering heat. No sooner than the man tried to stand, his steps faltered, gushing out a nasal gyp tainted with blood, he collapsed as an earthquake hit building.

All, other spectators rushed anon. Smacking Bean's face red and blue, they hurled abuses at him, jostling him to dust.

A shrivelled hand, peeking through the marmalade of shrieks and caterwauls, beseeching for succour.Panting heavily, whining in anguish, blotted with blood dropped down suddenly.

Terminating the fierce rugby-tackle, others left, leaving behind the dead old man and the bereaved corpse of Bean.

British Leyland 1000 Mini, with 3 passengers on board, circumnavigated through the same boulevard, disposing off a bubble of hot polluted fumes.

The blurry window pane vitrined Imra and her two friends, quaffing gelid-koolfi.

Imra glanced at the dead corpses, baffled at the disposition of the man, looked alike to Bean and smirked, how coude Bean be here, he might be fooling across the bridleway.

Brushing aside her minuscule cogitations, she relished the scrumptious piquant fricasse.

One of her friends, pinched on her feeble hand, to traduce about Bean, mockingly said, "Thou are in love with Bean, who originally belongs to a diminutive burg and is a hobo ".

Giggled tirelessly, until their sides started to ache.

"Maroon that 'Hijra' who is a nincompoop, and is stripped of his dignity, facing opprobrium in jorum ".

The flakes of perspiration, gathered on her upper lip, glistened with bamboozlement. Furrows and trenches along her glabella and brows vitrined her inner psyche of conundrum.

Thrashing the door tirelessly, after indulging in a verbal spat with Miss Wicket. Later, however, Imra succeeded to enter the rental home of Bean.

To her horror, she found an epistle, wherein the freckles along the ambits and queues of the recto beamed with qualms of disgust, anguish and uneasiness.

Squealing hopelessly, she searched every nook and corner for Bean.

The blood-smeared bayonet with driblets of sanguine-fluid on the mezzanine floor left her aghast.

The chamois saree drenched in sanguine-fluid had unveiled Bean's identity, today before Imra.

Rushing down the flight of steps, she catechized Miss Wicket regarding Bean's whereabouts.

Galloping across the tenebrous lane, she tumbled down.

She was razed. Bellowing in despair, disgust.

Discerning the clammy tulle sarong, she wailed, " Bean, paenitet im ".

Tottering at her steps, her dainty limbs failed to muster up courage to saunter.

Her palpitatious auricle-ventricle inquisitive for Bean's clemency, ached, snarled with some catarrh.

Before, she could vent, she collapsed.

Her wrinkled eyelid whilst drooping coude espy the saree- clad phantasma disappearing in the reeking-hearts of bazaar, solid and suffocating as sleep.