Mkroki to you all from Mbashta. Why! I must relate the events of yesterday while they are still fresh in my mind (tabanga mindi). While selling me monitor lizard eyeballs for the most delicious soup my cousin intended to make, the butcher transmogrify before my very eye into the spit of Lembit Opik and instruct me to tell the curious tale of the Furtive Gnaw of Sheepy Parva (then nipped off mid-transaction to an upstairs room to pray).

Confused, I resorted to otching.

Upon returning home I felt compelled to make the bubble of snooker (snuka-bubli as the great Wotoga of Benin once knew it) for 27 minutes plus also a few seconds, more than eight but probably, though not definitely, less than eleven – it certainly couldn’t have been more than eleven, because I remember Mrs Crisps popping in to borrow a sander; but I could not put out of my mind the words of the meat merchant. “Croaketh not the carcass vendor/On yonder modem..?” asked Christopher Marlowe – surely a question aimed as much at all of us as at Hamish McNulty... With fevered brow and sweating palms I began to type, a manic glint in my eye, the tale my mother tell me when I was a yout’:

Sheepy Parva, contrary to popular wisdom, which places it in Leicestershire, is to be found forty metres below the Square Mile, a little to the east of St Mary Axe, so called in honour of the tripods of Peru. As Dan Brown point out so lucidly in his critically acclaimed book known in my country simply as Davin Chikodi, the evil and naughty Church suppressed the fact that St Mary had attacked the Magi with the Axe of Epicurus , as prophesied by Tony in Bedlam in Strood (Strudi Bedlambo).

Frightened for toadstool, Mary (pictured above on a toasted cheese sandwich) fled with her followers to the foothills of the Andes to raise a sheepish colony, not dissimilar to your John Prescott’s “cattley ranch” (mkatli). The statue of Boudicca opposite the Palace of Westminster is a direct and encoded Masonic reference to this attack, the “spear” of “Boudicca” being in reality the Epicurean Axe of a highly irascible Virgin Mary.

The descendants of these early colonists returned to these hallowed shores in 1968 in order to set up a ska outfit, only to find winsome hedge and flake, whereupon they conspired with Mossad to bring down the Twin Towers and produce the Protocols of the Elders of Zion, again in accordance with the predictions of the revered Tony (see his lesser-known Bake It Well, Gregory, For Tonight We Dine On The Complete Works of PG Wodehouse).

A youthful PG Wodehouse relaxing in Cheltenham