Mary Hitler Stoops to The Sink of Despair

The despondency was palpable.
"Was it?" asked George, who genuinely didn't know.
"Yes, it was," replied Julian, as she unhooked the gate, which swung heavily and closed with a metallic, rusty heavy bang. The gate used to squeak unmercifully, driving the inhabitants crazy, until Julian recognised it's potential. No-one could arrive unannounced! She began to love the unpainted, squeaky gate. Until, one day, Candy Perfume Girl arrived having an Episode. Candy was angry and no-one could do a thing about it. She flounced and yelled and carried on a treat. George rang Sir Bobby Felt who arrived with his son and alacrity. Both the Bobby boys understood because they had had episodes of their own. The Big Bobby had tried to drive his motorbike into a telegraph pole in South Australia, in his pajamas, with his heavily pregnant wife running down the darkened road after him, calling out, "Don't, Bobby, don't." She gave birth to the first child the next day, and it goes without saying that the baby Bobby went on to episode with aplomb. Generally with suicidal thoughts and great mental darkness.
The Bobbies were there to help, but Candy Perfume Girl wasn't having any of it. She slammed her way through the house and through life, horrified by her actions the following day, but this was still 'today' so all was hunky dory. She marched along the garden path to the gate after punching her way through the bathroom and down the wooden stairs, shaking the house. The garden gate suffered from the heavy force administered in its closing, and was never to squeak again. Julian was more than a little sorry about that. Big Bobby tried grabbing her by her shirt and throwing her to the ground and shouting in her face, "What are you doing to your family," he yelled, inches from her nose. Perfume Girl was horrified and it took her years to forgive.
Meanwhile, Mary hadn't finished the champagne and didn't intend to and was washing the dishes. Something was rotten in the state of Denmark and it stunk like a dead cat. Julian marvelled at the maturity and wisdom of middle-age. Everyone knew something smelly was going on, but everyone just 'carried on regardless'. It was all very British of them, despite 3 of the dinner party coming from Connecticut. Julian proudly displayed the Connecticut key hanging doorknob to them all, an appropriate gift from Mary. The doorknob was a doorknob to nowhere and invited being turned daily. A fitting symbol of life in these dark ages.