Tragedy strikes the world of Fox Hunting, causes thousands of monocles to pop

The world of Fox Hunting all a twitter!

The world of fox hunting was shaken last week when Lord Featherton-Atwell III collapsed off his horse during the midst of the midseason classic at Ponceyshire last week.

One second, the blueblooded hero of the Order of the Garter was galloping along, causing the hearts of countless Hapsburg girls to flutter, then the next he was on the ground, his trumpet dented and his riding helmet flung wide.

Fox hunters from Lancastershireontynesidefield to Fluffymustache-on-Thames were shocked by the news. At the Fox hunt along the coastlands, world famous hunters such as Baron Bertrude von Cushythrop and Duke Joffrey Cogsworth Penny passed along notes to their servants to politely speak Lord Featherton-Atwell III’s name out loud in unison.

Never forget.

The world of Fox Hunting is frequently an ugly place, torn apart by sectarian arguments over bugleing and post hunt dinner seating arrangements. Who could forget the furor that erupted when Sir Montgomery found out that the family of his hunting partner once supported the Lancasters over the Yorks. His vitriolic comments still put a bourgeois stain upon the world of Fox Hunting.

Here we did not see the ugliness of Sir Montgomery’s outburst or the bile of Duchess Niki Minaj’s evaluation of the Duke of Hertfordshireshamalamadingdong’s second course. Here, the entire world of Fox Hunting put their rivalries and hatreds, nurtured by centuries of European dynastic conflict and inbreeding, aside and joined together in polite, dignified applause in support of Lord Featherton-Atwell III, a giant in our sport.

I, for one, am proud to be a Fox Hunter today.

When it really counts we show the dignity we need. We have the poise and breeding to react properly to this event. And we can put things into perspective.

Dat azz.

After all, what makes this event really worthwhile is that it reminds us what is important. Its not chasing foxes or wearing red coats. Its inbreeding. Just imagine if it turned out that Lord Featherton-Atwell III was scottish or, god forbid, WELSH. Imagine getting some of THEM on our fields.

God, we’d never live it down.

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