Shabby Usurpery

I knew it.

The victory over the Smartarses is going to the heads of other members of Team Derrig.

Already it seems that BT is drawing up (and making-up) his own fruit-related quizzes and bandying them about in Club Derrig. Not being the afeared sort, I of course engage him and dispose of his meddlesome quizzical interspersions in a matter of seconds.

Sample for yourself his tawdry wares with this insolent interrogative: Has there ever been a watermelon larger than I, Derrig of the Derrig.

Ha, I think not!

But he is not alone in having his skull wrenched out of place by the divine Goddess that is Stardomery.

I was perturbed to hear that the Genius Amanuensis was ASKED TO RUN A QUIZ, which he did do done and all last night!

Now, you know me: even if it's a case of having to heave up to the buffers and grind away until the old spine is fairly rubberish, you won't hear me moaning. I am, after all, a great admirer of the Strictly Got Dancing type of stuff, and am willing to shake a rumpfeather for the benefit of the laydeez.

Spread the glory around that is rightly mine own if I must, is my motto.

But this really is the straw that broke the camel's neck.

I herebyforth do declare to all what it may be of concern that I am freely available for Quizmastering of the highest order.

No intellects too small.

Royalty, Arsenal, and Morris questions a speciality.