While reading, C was taken with the notion of At-Home Days and vowed to host a reception night of his own, when all the folk throughout the land would know that they could find C ready to receive them. PE drifted gently into the clouds of whatever it is that obscures beautiful princesses from the mundane, but C remained faithful to his oath to keep Wednesday nights open to all who cared to join him in his humble abode. His home drifted a bit and was sometimes quite humble indeed.
When he was sharing a small commorancy with several random compatriots, C fell madly in love with still another beautiful damsel. She felt that weekly reception nights were cumbersome and convinced C that a congregation of friends would be better suited as a less frequent affair, say, on the first Friday of each month. A small band of confederates objected: Wednesday nights had become their sole point of social contact and the thought of losing this slender thread led to wailing, gnashing, etc. A stout-hearted fellow stepped up and promised to carry on the tradition and so he has ever since.
All who have slogged through the better part of a week can take comfort in the knowledge that from 8-11pm on a Wednesday night, succor and ale may be found at the manse of
ednoria and kugelblitz, except for the first Wednesday of the month, when it's at my house. May we all live happily ever after. 