So it is with sad heart that the Hutchback reports his departure from the Western shores of la belle France. Last night was a whirligig of the senses - a loop-a-planes of the heart - a cha-cha-cha of the bowels. The Hutchback is in love.
Mrs Hutchback having recently left your favourite malform for a new partner on death row is no longer a drop weight around my shoulders. I am free to lope awkwardly through daisy fields and pick ripe loganberries with a blushing damsel. But how comes this about? You may ask - go on ask - for I shall burst if I don't tell.
But later, later - it is time for me to sneak back dockward and repack myself in my splintery coffin. A short sea hop back to blightly awaits along with a few hundred weight of Korean electronics. Although why they are being exported across the channel is a mystery to me and I suppose you as well.