AIBU to be annoyed when I make a really good point on a thread

[SerenityNowAKABleh]

and then it's ignored, and either I have to repeat it, or then someone else comes and makes exactly the same point and everyone goes "oh yes, that's quite clever" "what a good and inciteful point" and so on. Maybe I should just type in caps?
So, AIBU?

Yikes!

Aha! It's too late for you my lovely.

Now you just stay there Missy until the good Father awakens and then you shall pay for your evil ways. Hark, I hear groaning. I think tether may have awakened. I hope she has regained strength. Mayhap she can help me locate dear Mr Rochester.

I'm Ba-ack !!

Anyone missed me? No ?

Cannot be arsed to read all the thread, but truly, I have come to the conclusion that you hully are truly the mad woman in the attic.

Oh well, madame, so you think you can just stroll in here, hurl insults about and be embraced like the prodigious sun?

You have no idea what we have been dealing with here, it has been a great strain on Gibbon, tether and I. Dear tether lies wounded in her chamber.

Don't tread on the Princessa and mind Father Brown, we need him later.

Sun ?. You don't want to go embracing the sun. Very nasty burns. Oh Yes. And I think you mean "prestigious".

Your attitude rather smacks of the Princessa's. Are you in league? Do not try and loosen her bonds or we shall have to truss you up, too.

Jamie!

Is that really you? tell me it isn't so with your poisoned tongue and harsh tone?

Ah Gibbon, alas and alack. I fear dark doings are afoot. We must keep our wits gathered all about us. I shall tighten the Princessa's knots before I hasten to get the last few exorcism supplies.

Oh, alas and alack, I fear I am possessed! To have uttered that most foul and accursed word (arsed) and the mortal sin of shouting. Truly, I am prostrate with grief.

Save me!

Hmmmmmmmmmmmm

Can we trust her? Perhaps if she performed a little light scourging we might be convinced of her sincerity. Twould be nice to once more clasp her to our heaving bosoms. And frankly we could do with the help. Tether has bedsores and needs regular turning.

< mournful sniff >

I say we tread gently and keep a keen eye on her, she was one of our own after all.

I shall visit Dr Ernest Henley and aquire some ointment to tend to the sores.

And, pray, Gibbon a tisane for me also ?

the welts upon my back are troubling me

he he he [evil mischievous laughter]

I have been to the library to carry out various researches (and about time too) and I have shocking news - the princessa is indeed a sorceress and would have us all as beads on a string. On no account must she be released.

Look, Father Brown is stirring, pull him out from under the evil princessa and we can recommence the preparations. There isn't a moment to lose. There is a chill in the air which I suspect is dear departed gone to the bad Miss Minty. We must battle on every front.

If only Gibbon would hurry, I fear Dr Ernest has detained her with his poetry again.

And I still have no news of my beloved Mr Rochester. If a single hair on his head is harmed I shall ne'er dance no more.

Sincere apologies for the delay, Dr Ernest is rather, erm, earnest about his prose and did delay me for quite some time. I have the ointment and trust everything else is in place?

Unfortunately we must delay yet further. I must hie me to the children's wassailing. Pray we will not be too late. Keep an eye on the Princessa and an ear out for Miss Minty and be gentle with the ointment, dear Jamie was a little harsh on herself with the scourger.

Of course. Do take care Hully dear.

"beads on a string " ? Like this ?

Loosen my stays Gibbon and pass me the smelling salts. Truly I have been lured ito a den of iniquity

Jamie! Good Heavens above! (retires to fainting couch for a swoon)

Curses! Will no one release me from these infernal coils?

So, Mr Rochester is still unaccounted for? Let me count the beads on my string...

No, not that string, Jamie!

I have returned from the wassailing, followed, tis sad to report, with much imbibing of the famed stirrup cup in a local hostelry. So. To business. I see that Father Brown has disappeared, I hope he has gone in search of our last ingredient of eye of gerbil.

And dear tether is nearly fully restored. There is just the sorry tale of Mr Rochester to recount. Once I stepped into yonder coaching inn, post wassail, I bespied a familar back, slumped over the bar, and familar gruff tones issuing orders for port and lemon barley. You can only imagine my shock, horror and disillusionment when I ascertained it to be Mr Rochester himself!

I accosted him and he said he had had enough of the hall and wanted to carouse with like minded fellows.

I am sorely broken, but not yet finished. Mayhap Father Brown will know of some suitable potion.

I fear Jamie has not scourged enough that her mind is thus befouled.

[Minty is possesing poor innocent Jamie and making her thinks such terrible thoughts]