What are you doing Stan 

I am copying a poem 

To a Wreath of Snow

By Emily Bronte 

On to our condensated window 

Stan there is no condensation on our windows 

That is presenting me with a small problem 

But I am sure that Emily would have understood 

I would image it is quite cold in Haworth today

It would be bleak and bitter 

I would like to return to Haworth 

As Emily makes me so wet

Well pack your winter knickers as the train 

Leaves at five and I have booked us into a lovely hotel 

You are so romantic Stan that is a nice thing to do 

You write Emily’s poem on an invisible window 

And surprise me me with this fantastic trip 

I am beginning to think that you are human after all

It is really a celebration Jane 

A celebration 

Yes 

What are you celebrating 

I am celebrating the fact that the area around Uxbridge 

Was mainly rural in character before the 1930s 

Stan you are not human 

You are an alien my love 

Shall I do a Calypso on train as I normally do 

Yes Please 

No more Preston though 

No more Preston

Will we fuck at the hotel Stan 

I hope so 

Is the room centrally heated 

I hope so 

Otherwise I will need a lot of hot showers 

Will you be my Keef 

Yes 

Then I will be your Candice Marie