Due to Internet troubles, this installment is slightly late, but I assure you it is no less riveting! Tina's words are in blue, mine in black.
Glancelot gazed dejected into the mirror the next morning.
"Wediquwas!" he blubbered. The inside of his mouth looked no different than anyone else's except for a small splinter of bone that was wedged between his back molars. He picked at it, trying desperately to get it out.
Useless. Not only was the previous night's party a terrible disaster in which he was brutally laughed at, his own servants were sneering at him behind closed doors. His own dear Gwen was no doubt spreading the rumor among her close maids.
"Enoufwpt!" cried Glancelot. "Thith thall not go on for anover moment!"
"I must find a way to bweak thith dwead cuwse!" he continued meditatively.
The very faint sound of stifled giggles burst from outside his chamber door. He glared severely at the door, wishing intensely to throw some verbal abuse at the unseen mocker. Glancelot turned again toward the mirror, probing at the splinter of bone with his tongue.
"Ow, Muvvah!" he wailed desparingly (but softly), "if onwy your spiwit would guide me again!"
"You could say please," said a familiar bass voice.
"You!" shouted Glancelot.
The ghostly dog nodded.
"Perhapth," Glancelot continued, remembering his manners, "you have a message fwom my Muvvah that will help me?"