The Velvet Robe with the Puzzling Eyeball Insignia

     Lord Vanderbilt was at it in the mirror again, adjusting his hat, and fussing over his cape and tie.  His hair was an eyesore, and his teeth protruded disturbingly.  He fancied himself as an offbeat chanteuse, and all week he had been planning to foist himself on his loyal subjects at the Weekend Talent Tournament which was swiftly approaching.  Buzzing around in his house aimlessly, ordering the deaths of two traitors of state, and keeping his two favorite white lilies carefully watered and pampered did little to distract him from his preoccupation.  He yelled cross accusations by the hour at his house boy Sinjin, blaming him for making him late, though that was not the case.  These reprimands would continually devolve into heated bouts of rough, and awkward sex.  Sinjin had grown use to the Lord's fickle moods, and would now almost foster the sexual tide, wanting the whole charade to not last any longer then it had the tendency to, when not cleverly outlined.  It was after the third time of their savage coitus that a loud knocking on the front door drew the Lord, in his indecent state, to the tall stranger that stood before him in the courtyard of the Lord's manor.  Henry, Vanderbilt's gardener, had no doubt let this indistinct scoundrel in through the Lord's gate.  The very nerve of this action almost troubled the Lord more than the negligent way this uninvited oaf was trying to disguise himself behind the tree limbs to perhaps conceal his shady identity for a few more spare seconds.  

     "Reveal yourself at once!", exclaimed the Lord, who then ordered Sinjin to seize the saucy guest, and put him in chains immediately.  

He was to be restrained and tortured until the Lord had returned from his regulated Weekend Talent Tournament.  The close-mouthed guest said nothing during all these proceedings, he only made a gesture with his right hand covering his right eye.  It was all too cryptic for the Lord to understand, but after examination it was deduced that the guest had brought a sort of present for Lord Vanderbilt, and after he was raked over the coals quite a few times by the Lord's crackerjack staff of thugs, the Lord had him tossed to the piranha infested waters behind his manor. The Lord sat on the steps between two pillars, as he waited for the dying stranger to scream in agony.  Unsettling as it were, there was no screaming, but a bit of thrashing, which calmed the Lord's spirits a little.  Lazily, he unwrapped the visitors gift, and was dumbstruck by what resembled a velvet bathrobe with an artfully done eyeball decoration on it's back.  Lord Vanderbilt felt the tiniest shade of guilt for having the philanthropist so hastily murdered.  Perhaps there was a story behind this robe.  There was no way of knowing the truth now.