Just to Prove that I'm not Entirely Horrible

On the previous page of the Standard to the one I was whinging about earlier, in a review of a book on Henry V, I found this line:

In 1415 came victory at Agincourt, during which the cream of the French nobility was violently curdled.

A beautiful resuscitation of a moribund metaphor. It even avoids the more obvious whipped. The reviewer, Dan Jones, should be knighted immediately.

That said, I am at least 99% horrible, and the remaining 1% is a trifle weather-damaged.

Less handsome than you imagined