'Unfinished' for your pleasure

Roger, will you be my concubine? No, I know what you're thinking, and there need not be any gymnastics on the turnstile. There are plenty of others for that. I have a much more significant role for you in mind. As my concubine, you will have one simple chore: upon the occasion of my bowels making a gaseous utterance, you shall stand by and address me "Your excellency." You see, Roger, I have the most inconvenient habit, upon the passing of such occasions, of releasing my trousers and undgergarments from my hips and giving way to the most unsociable practice of bending over, spreading my -- (ahem,) well, Roger, I need not relate more. The purpose you will attend to, of recalling to me my high stature, and in so doing, helping me to refrain from unseemly gestures, will preclude there ever recurring such overreactions. I am a man of wealth and public standing, and you see, Roger, there is really very little permissibility among my class for reprehensible behaviors. Last Tuesday, as you well know, Miss Judy Lestenbury made her presence at the Centennial Ball quite, let us say, unpalatable, by certain activities involving two rubber oranges and a snakeskin. How one even conceives of putting fruit to such purposes I cannot well make sense of. Albeit the Lestenburys have always had a knack for creativity, and no small hindrance will keep the young Master Paul from budding into a quite fascinating and well-to-do gentleman. That is if his aunt's infamy does not outlive him. So you see, Roger, the job I ask of you is an important one: it makes not too great a lease on your charity, for the demand is small, and you might even take it for a promotion. You hesitate, Roger? I must say, I do not see how you could cling to your present occupation: it really is such a lowly station, you know, with all that business of trading hats and sitting in washbasins. It's awfully unbecoming, Roger, awfully unbecoming. What I offer is so much more rewarding. Do you wish to end up like Franklin? Doting on silversmiths, running up and down those hills all the time?