There have been some dark and stormy happenings afoot. The first amongst these was the removal of my right foot by the bad Dr Sarakin for reasons unknown. He assures me the amputation was absolutely necessary, and has even allowed me to keep the foot itself. I play to use the skeletal remains of my podial pal and a conversational centre piece. I will place it on the mantelpiece between the wolf droppings and my eighth wife’s pickled spline. Take a load off your feet, or else take your feet of entirely.
