Monday 13th August

Yesterday was most definitely a game (or matcha) of at least two
halves, as the Butlers en masse officially took to the streets of
Edinburgh for the first time. I was up with the lark, completing a
commission by surprising a breakfasting lady in Corstorphine with a
message of appreciation and gratitude. I then gathered with Butlers
Thompson and Jennings for an orientation meeting (accompanied by
haggis and latte), before paying a first visit to Greyfriars Kirkyard
to show our respects for that greatest of poets and tragedians,
William Topaz McGonagall, I reciting his apposite text "Edinburgh",
while Butler Jennings plumped seasonally for "The Christmas Goose".
Having completed our obeisances, we continued our perambulations,
delivering yet another Certificate of Fringe Accomplishment to Venue
23, before being gloriously arrested by the blandishments of a
remarkable emporium named Anteaques, whose patron most solicitously
serves an unrivalled selection of fine teas in stunning Edwardian
surroundings. Needless to say, the Butlers were smitten. Much later,
Jennings and I moved on to the cultured surroundings of Summerhall,
where we took in a powerful, Kantor-inspired theatrical presentation
before spending a delightful and Laphraoig-fuelled hour in the company
of a certain Mr. McDowell. Finally, and despite the fact that I had
passed little of the day in actual butlerial labour, I and the other
Butlers attended an ambitious comic creation, presented by a talented
antipodean lady, at Venue 61, followed by a tasty mince pie supper on
the way to an early and most welcome bed.

Fletcher the Butler