Waking trouserless in a room caked with excrement
I wonder if the final drink was a mistake.
A quick call to Louis and we cook up a solution.
'Pretend it's an installation,' he suggests,
shrewd as ever. 'We'll invite the press
and have them review you - say it's a provocative piece
entitled "Fitzwilliam's Divorce". Haven't got a pen
handy, have you? Be good if you could do a sign -
nothing fancy, you understand. In fact, the more lo-fi
the better. Maybe write it with your left hand,
so it looks a bit crazy and unrestrained.'
Naturally, the plan went off without a hitch -
or so we thought. Next week, we saw the reviews -
damning as a chin smeared with chocolate.