‘Your mother didn′t have any call to go slinging off about me moey, anyway,’ complained Hughie suddenly, and from thirty years ago steamed up a resentment that had never really gone off the boil. ‘She always did have a tongue in her head that would scare the hair off a coconut.’ ‘Don′t go poking borax at the dead,’ remonstrated Mumma, then she added softly, ‘It was that nice, too, all black and silky.’

I vvill vvithdravv from your Company; retire to the Shades, and perform my Penance of a Thouſand Years.

To accompany a meal, the fresh Italian lager Poretti is perfect; Erdinger Weisbier, a wheat beer from Germany, is full of zing;

Those features can be talked about in ways that will display my general intelligence to potential mates and friends, who will bow down before my godlike technopowers, which rival those of Iron Man himself.