He was an obnoxious chap. Never shut the bloody hell up. Always going on, always about himself, Or spouting his opinions when no one else Gave a flying fuck.
One day in the library Soames simply walked up to the chap (By the fireplace he was, hogging the heat Just as he hogged any conversation or Indeed any room he was in), Old Soames walks up to the chap And hurls his sherry in the man’s face.
“Now will you please shut the Bloody hell up,” said Soames. “Or must I throw you by main force Into that fire?”
“I beg your pardon!” said the chap.
But you know what, he did shut the Bloody hell up, For the rest of that night And for the rest of his life.
Walter was his Christian name, And he soon became known as “Wordless Walter”. Wordless Walter, Never heard another peep Out of him.
And then one day, Not right away, but four, maybe Five years later (It’s hard to say, because no one Really noticed him anymore), One day he didn’t come into the club. And he never came in again.
And then, a few years later, someone said, “Oh, by the way, remember Wordless Walter? Kicked the bucket last week. Massive Coronary.”
No one said anything. No one really cared. Wordless Walter was gone. And good riddance.