At Her Majesties Pleasure
I thank you for your gift of the poster of Sir Winston S. Churchill. This has been most useful in
controlling my cell mate Big 'Arry, a former director of an investment bank who believes that the
great man speaks to him at night. Apparently they discuss the moral ambiguities of the insider
trading rules. I have traded this poster for a quiet life, first dibs on any tea bags we can get hold
of and shares in a company 'Arry intends to set up on release. I'm not sure of the exact details but
believe it involves Iraq, on Winston S.'s suggestion.
This quiet time has allowed me to begin writing my memoirs as well as attending a few local social
soirees. This being a perk associated with being incarcerated in the better sort of establishment.
This has reduced my time for writing to you but still, as part of the correspondence section of my
autobiography, I am able to relate what happened last Wednesday. The night of the annual H. M. P.
Worplesthorpe Incareree Talent Show. I had naturally taken over the position of stage manager and
thus was heavily involved with some back stage fretting during the night. Indeed, I was only kept on
track through the night by Wee Eric's Brew. This is something he produces in the bin sheds, for a
fifty percent protection tax, which I have high hopes of selling upon release. As an industrial
Anyhoo, the night was going well, the judges were well reimbursed, no fights had broken out and
my Womble inspired finale was still on track. And then it happened. Fifteen ruffians from the
plebeian gaol next door, H. M. P. Scarface, escaped. Right into our show.
Initially little notice was taken. We were on 'Insider Trading' Bob's 'The Man In The Iron
Mask' and the chains and uncouth language fitted in well. However up next was my personal
investment, "'Ernest Saunders - The Musical', which they let down badly by not knowing their dance
steps. They were so out of time that the screws even noticed. This led to a couple of Wardens
getting on stage to route out the intruders and something closely akin to a Benny Hill finale
As you know I am not a fan of the genre and so I rapidly dropped the curtain on this particular
farce. Unfortunately the ruffians from Scarface did not take well to this limiting of their escape
routes. They let me know this in no uncertain manner before being subdued by the Wardens and
indeed it was a full half hour before I was extracted from the wrong end of the Womble costume
and our finale could take place.
All things considered I believe that the eventual third place in the competition would have been
justified, considering the disruption. It shall always rankle, though, that the eventual winners, 'The
H.M.P. Scarface Escapologists', have gone on to a starring role as resident experts on the latest
series of 'I’m a celebrity, get me out of here.'
At Her Majesties Pleasure.
Next Time – 'How Old!!'