Ruddy palaver, gettin’ this blood off the walls.
Bloody gladiators an’ lions and whatnot, bludgeonin’ each other to death, rippin’ each other open. Oh it’s great fun, until muggins here has to clean it all up.
Anybody would fink they’d know better. I mean, it don’t even matter if you clean it off, ‘cos it’s just goin’ to get all filthy an’ blood-mucked again innit?
Oh, but the Emperor’s comin’ tomorrow they say. Oh, but there’s this senator, now it’s a foreign ambassador.
Well, that’s all right then; just hang about whilst I shovel up these guts and brains an’ that, an’ then I’ll go scrub the blood off the walls.
That’s what I told Septimus; vinegar. That’s what we should use to wash blood off the walls, or lift it off a bit anyway. Would he listen? Would he b*ll*cks.
Vinegar smells he says.
I’ve half a mind to let on he’s a Christian!