Dear Prof. Montgomary,

Mephy is my wife! She came to you in her dog form carrying a kiwi... the fruit of her very loins! Your insolence knows no bounds. It is an affront to the suN goD and hiS faithful servant nIck!

I leave you to ponder your doings!

Toby

My Syphlitic Friend,

I fear for your sanity. I am afraid that it is more than likely that some wife-borne illness had addled your brain and unhinged your mind.

Let me run you through the events of last Wednesday.

I was at home, tremulously waiting for the doom which was, in turn, waiting for me. I could only sit and imagine with horror the horrors of wife-dom and of pinapple-syrup-dom which were about to visit me horribly. The door bell rang with its typical nautical theme, sung by no other than Michael. I walked, slowly at first, then more slowly toward the end. I turned the gorgon-headed handle of my main-front-door twice removed. There, sitting on the welcome mat (which I had clevely prefixed with 'un' while waiting for your wife), was your dog Mephisto holding a kiwi tween its teeth. A kiwi!

Proposterous!

G.

P.S. I have sent over my wife to have a look at you. As you know she had recently graduated with honours from the University of Zanzibar in Wife-Borne Diseases.

Your Thanks are not needed.

Nor Wanted.

Yours-ish

G.

P.S. I apologise for the fact that I ended and signed the letter twice, it must have been an oversight and it will not happen again.

Yours,

G.

P.S. Bollocks

G.

My dearest Professor,

It is the phoney flight that is the deceit's height. However much I did not want it to end this way; you leave me no choice. I hereby condemn you to a lifetime of living with my wife. Your sentence will be served covered in a fine pineapple syrup. She will have the full authority to fulfil her sordid little heart's desires.

You will become morally alone, physically exhausted and mentally ill.

Your friend,

Toby

xxx

Dear Toby,

I apologise profusely and torrentially for not answering you sooner but the gall and nerve of your letter had me so flabbergasted that I have been comatose for the better part of this week. I believe that you know that I know that you believe that even I am aware that your accusation is unfounded, unfoundable and down right without foundation.

I have several things to add, however I shall confine my response to the shortest, the most Kurt, the most Frank and the most Peter (to mention nothing of the customary musical nature of such replies)

Dear Toby,
Review the facts, before so rashly condemning my acts.
You have known me since the Flight,
(When the Director's son, that knave, that blight;
(Was turned into the order's first Knight
(Oh what a sorry plight!)

You know I have never acted amiss
Even in the time of the Bliss
(When the Director son, that cretin, that clot,
(Was very happily shot
(Yay! and Goodie!).

So is it likely that I have infringed that law most sacred?
Is it likely that I have had a flightless bird butchered (and naked)?
NO.

Look closer and you shall see,
Yes the bird was at birth bereft of flight,
And yes I was indeed there that night,
But before poisoned,
I fixed him to a kite.

Yours (just about)

G.

Dear Greg (If I may),

Aunt Milly notwithstanding, you have shown quite clearly that you are as blind as the proverbial lobotomized chihuahua and I have obviously erred in assuming that you've had insight into your wrongdoings.

I shall, therefore, run you through our my organization's prime rule; which you have blatantly broken:

"An acolyte shall not poison the director's flightless pigeon through the improper administration of low dose Uranium salts"

I was flabbergasted and, may I add, befuddled with your inability to follow such a straightforward rule! Did you think that this act will not be seen as treachery?

Scornfully,

Toby

Dear Toby,

I have had the pleasure of knowing well both your great-aunt Mildred, or Mildy as I called her, and her pearls. It is sad that the proverbial apple has fallen so proverbially far from the proverbial tree.

(Only) Proverbially yours,

G.

Dear Professor,

To share with you some pearls of wisdom brought to you by my great-aunt Mildred: "Quack!"

Toby