Proverb: One of several terms describing short, pithy sayings. Others include adage, apothegm, gnome, maxim, paroemia, and sententia.
My lot in life was low. But, I knew, as the tinker poet “Cup Banger” said: “Just because class rhymes with ass, doesn’t mean you have to be one.” I wasn’t an ass per se, but I used my ass to prepare the Duke’s inside chamber pot for pooping.
In the 17th century, dealing with human poop was a matter of social class. I worked in the manor house, overseeing the Duke’s “close stool,” an indoor chamber pot set in a throne-like chair. As a peasant with a notoriously warm m butt, I was taken on by Duke “Squatty” Marlborough to warm his close stool’s “seat” with my butt.
I was stationed 24-7 by the close stool with 20 minutes off once-a-week. I had a cot to sleep on. When I was on my break the Duchess, complaining loudly that she was royalty, would fill in for me. I wore a uniform appropriately colored brown. There were two openings in the back fitted to my butt-cheeks—my “warmers” as the Duke called them. I held a bottle of lavender water in one hand and a wiping cloth in the other hand embroidered with the Duke’s initials. I would put the lavender water on the cloth and hand it to him when he was done pooping.
Sometimes when he was in his cups, he would ask me to wipe him. He’d pay me 20p. And if he still had his bottle with him, he’d offer me a swig. For that kind of money I would do nearly anything. I gladly complied. I had almost saved a pound in the month I’d been there.
There was danger in the job though. The Duke’s son, Marquess “Spotto” of Marlborough, was a terror. For example, he had tampered with his father’s fox hounds, plugging their noses with cotton swabs so they couldn’t smell anything, thereby ruining the fox hunt. How diabolical, especially since he was named after his father’s favorite dog “Spotto.”
I and the Duke were the subjects of his most notorious, treacherous, and heinous prank: he put cayenne pepper in his father’s butt cleansing lavender water.
I was standing by the close stool after warming it to a comfortable temperature with my butt. Of course, when I first sat down, I got temporary butt shock, but soon my warm hind-end rendered the seat comfortable. The Duke sat down and said “Ahhh boy, you’ve never failed me.” I was quite proud.
The Duke did his usual grunting and farting. He said, “Boy, hand me the cloth, and make sure to give it a double soaking of lavender water.” I complied. He wiped and screamed in pain. The pepper had seared his anus. He yelled “Guards take this boy to the dungeon and somebody throw a bucket of water on my ass and give me a fresh rag!”
I was thrown into a cell that smelled like Armageddon. There was a man standing chains. His beard was three feet long and I could see his ribs. All he could say was “Don’t fu*k with the Duke.”
Spotto confessed to lacing the lavender water with ceyenne pepper. It was a trick he had learned Ridley’s School for Clever Boys—a school founded by the Duke specifically for his son.
I was on the verge of being thrown into a pitiful of cockroaches when the Duke’s messenger arrived and yelled “Cease and desist! The boy is pardoned!”
As a reward for my faithfulness and perseverance in the face of injustice, the Duke had a burning candle tattooed on each of my butt cheeks, symbolizing the warmth my cheeks bring, and the light they shed.
The Daily Trope 