A madman has escaped from an asylum. In his aimless wandering enters in a room. There is held a contest for wine tasters. The place was not too big and looks of people focused on it. His appearance was bizarre. His long graying curls swirled cluttering up your head and piercing eyes under bushy brows plunged into the present by forcing them to lower it. His clothes were too informal to be there but the walk and were soon captivated verbiage. Had something special that attracted and fascinated though no one was able to explain what it was.
His words were marked by a slight French accent and introduced himself as François Dupont, renowned ethnologist in his country. Naturally turned to the table, away it to the first member of the jury it would start the tasting, snatching the cup from his hand. He followed the rituals that follow any of those present and tasted the broth. With eyes wide open, spit out the contents and threw down the cup broke into pieces.
"Shameful! - Exclaimed. "This wine is not senior enough to attend this event. What audacity!
A buzz filled the room up to him yelling for silence. And I got into the act. You could hear a mosquito buzzing across the room. Took the next glass of wine and after tasting it gently laid it on the table.
"Okay. No wins but it's nice. I'll take a few bottles. "
Then he took the third cup, but to bring it to his lips, his face suddenly changed. He made the gesture of throwing against the wall, but finally decided to put on the table.
"Gentlemen, I feel the sad duty to announce that they should call the police immediately. Someone has poisoned the cup. "
People looked at each other and their faces were not allowed unbelievers speechless.
"And the author of this atrocity is still here among us. Wounded in his pride at not being recognized all her effort and dedication in developing Wine of the previous crop, has decided to punish the judges inept and blind. You already know who I mean. " The eyes met
leading to accusations and insults that led to a real battle.
Smiling, turned mad and left the premises.
His words were marked by a slight French accent and introduced himself as François Dupont, renowned ethnologist in his country. Naturally turned to the table, away it to the first member of the jury it would start the tasting, snatching the cup from his hand. He followed the rituals that follow any of those present and tasted the broth. With eyes wide open, spit out the contents and threw down the cup broke into pieces.
"Shameful! - Exclaimed. "This wine is not senior enough to attend this event. What audacity!
A buzz filled the room up to him yelling for silence. And I got into the act. You could hear a mosquito buzzing across the room. Took the next glass of wine and after tasting it gently laid it on the table.
"Okay. No wins but it's nice. I'll take a few bottles. "
Then he took the third cup, but to bring it to his lips, his face suddenly changed. He made the gesture of throwing against the wall, but finally decided to put on the table.
"Gentlemen, I feel the sad duty to announce that they should call the police immediately. Someone has poisoned the cup. "
People looked at each other and their faces were not allowed unbelievers speechless.
"And the author of this atrocity is still here among us. Wounded in his pride at not being recognized all her effort and dedication in developing Wine of the previous crop, has decided to punish the judges inept and blind. You already know who I mean. " The eyes met
leading to accusations and insults that led to a real battle.
Smiling, turned mad and left the premises.
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