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