The Respective Exploits of the Major of the Tub of Crank and the Sergeant-at-Arms of the Tight Pants

"We are glum and stoic" declared the Major of the Tub of Crank. Then he fell over.
Meanwhile the Sergeant-at-Arms of the Tight Pants was revelling in some self-imposed solitude. He felt rather splendid as a result.
Suddenly a vulgar little tart burst into the room.
"Let's take this party downstairs," she shrieked.
"What party?" asked the Sergeant-at-Arms of the Tight Pants.
In response she immediately stripped nude and began prancing jerkily around the room. The Sergeant-at-Arms of the Tight Pants watched her, caressing his chin pensively.

Some frail peasants helped the Major of the Tub of Crank up. He embraced them awkwardly in thanks.
All of a sudden it got dark. The wind picked up. The Major of the Tub of Crank sensed that it might rain. It began to rain. The rain was teeming down. The Major felt it on his face. His penis was semi-erect.

The vulgar little tart had dropped to her knees and was zealously performing fellatio on the Sergeant-at-Arms of the Tight Pants. Her head bobbed back and forth like a metronome, the sight of which filled the Sergeant with a kind of insane delirious pleasure.