I travelled to the residence of Mary Hinge for an exclusive, first-ever interview. SHe had given me directions, and to my surprise, they were very clear-cut and correct.
On arriving at the door, I rang the bell, hearing the sonerous bell tolling deep within the house. Suddenly the door was opened with such speed and power, I wasn't aware of which side the hinges were.
And there stood the doyen of writing herself, gently puffing on an ancient pipe which had a bowl in the shape of a female breast. Having put down the pipe on the table just inside the door, she spoke in a husky voice which sent tremors down my spine.
"You must be hungry", and with unbelieveable strength, she tucked me under her arm, and scuttled off to her labratory, still puffing smoke out of her ears.
I tried to explain that my name wasn't Hungry, but she heeded me not, and sat me down in something that looked rather like an electric chair. Ripping off my shirt (my best one, too), she attached clips to my nipples (three times world champions in the nipple press-ups). Then she bent down, displaying her bottomless cleavage.
Suddenly there was a loud pinging noise, and this very attractive woman turned to a microwave oven I hadn't noticed, taking out a plate of perfectly cooked bulls testicles - cooked, I might say, with the power from my nipples. Turning back to me, she smiled. "Lunch?" she asked.
Next time - How I had a bath with Mary Hinge, and survived!!!