(Continued from https://ethicaldative.com/2021/10/24/a-toil-of-two-tongues/)

The spiel for the ceremonial dais shot was drearily familiar by now:

I, Siddhartha Huff-bin-Chuck, Shootist of the Dais Pose, do petition Astrid-bint-Wanda, Matronissimx of the Posse, for leave to seize their Effulgencies in bi-polaroid fanfare to the Fore-Founding Yachters — may their lordships ride at anchor in pristine astral coves.

Sidd would scream at Claw Hammer, “Too singsong! Again! Too mechanical! Again! Your fricatives are not plummy, idiot! Again!”

Claw had contracted larynx, tip-tongued alveolar ridge, exhaled labially, nasalized high mid-vowels, sharpened schwas, domineered glottal stops until the muscles throbbed.

One day it came to pass his rendition was passably Rees-Moggish. Sidd slapped Claw approvingly in the face and growled, “Better! Again!”

A tear burnt Sidd’s eye. He would shrug it off, but the oafish tyke plucked from the swart nethers of the duchy had earned a bit of bucking up, he must allow. Sidd ordered the kitchen staff of his Shalimar snuggery to double Claw’s ration of organ meat that evening.

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