They know…

26 10 2008

When the postman delivers what you were already beginning to suspect

 So…

 Apparently they do.

 I’m not quite sure how.  I was most careful.

I even selotaped shut my post box for three weeks.  Which of course meant my normal delivery of aquamarine pills (to repress my murderous tendencies) failed to arrive.  Not that I’m more murderous or anything…

 

So I killed the gardener.  He chopped a rose petal off.  He deserved it.

But he wasn’t my main quarry.  He wasn’t in the know.  How could he know?  Nobody knows…

I thought.

That’s when I met Felicity Kendall.  She explained the master plan.  We were to eat nothing but cauliflower cheese for 7 weeks solid.

 

I told her no.

 

Just no.

 

But she insisted.  And I ate it.  And now I can think of nothing but killing tigers.

And so with my main quarry identified, I set about killing as many tigers as I could find. 

Splendid. 

Nobody tells you that tigers are hard to find.  Once I’d killed all the ones in zoos, tracking them down in the wild proved more elusive.

Months I wandered.  I traversed the snows of the poles, I spent weeks searching them out in the streets of London, I swam to the depths of the Atlantic.  No tigers.  Boo.

Stupid tigers.  I guess they live to live another day.

 

But someone still knows…

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