That’s me, that is, Dear Reader, upon One’s liberation from the bung of doom…
On Tuesday, ably assisted by Boy and Vile ex Husband, One shall be once again returning to the Underground Lair.
The irresistible lure of the lair takes hold of One once again…
Bloke’s massive Christmas tree is still on loan and due to be laden with One’s scary Gothic Crimbo decorations….
‘Please Mummy! Not the scary snowmen again!’ pleaded Boy in Christmases of yore, upon the deaf ears of fiendish mummy One.
‘I want to spend Christmas Day with you Mumuz,’ opined Boy yesterday, ‘I don’t want you to be on your own, especially this year.’
HUH, methinks, the blighters have already decided that One will snuff it from the womb-of-doom disease.
Not fecking likely…
Or as the delightful chatelaine of the bung of doom whined…
‘You’re too evil to die.’
What a lovely old lady. To think One is almost doing a bit of wee with glee at leaving her.
‘What did you think of Dad’s new girlfriend?’ enquired One of Boy.
‘It was really creepy,’ says Boy, ‘She’s got the same hair as you.’
‘Bet she’s not as good looking as me though, is she?’ countered One to a terrified looking Boy who could offer no response.
‘What did you buy her for Crimbo?’ says One to Vile ex Husband.
‘Chanel no 5,’ counters he.
Read next bit in ‘The League of Gentlemen’ voice, from Royston Vasey…
‘YOU SMELL LIKE MY WIFE NOW.’