PAGE NINETEEN; ARTICLE TWO; LETTERS

Dear Reader,
Just a Just a short note to ask why you haven’t written to us recently? Have we offended you (already!) or something? Or are you just too lazy? Don’t you think we worry about you, alone in the big city? If only you would think of us as we think of you we could all go back to being a normal dysfunctional family. Still, enough of these rebukes.
If you are interested, your father has finally got rid of his awful rash; it made vacuuming his thighs so difficult and messy. But that is all in the past now (or, possibly, in the vacuum bag).
There doesn’t seem to be much news from here but that is the way with drab lives.
Did I tell you that auntie Edith finished knitting herself an extension to her bungalow. It looked quite nice if a bit stripey but she was very proud of it. She had a party to show it off -- you know what she is like. However, that night it rained. And now all she has got is a garden shed. How we laughed.
So, that’s all our news. How about some news from you?
We hope you are eating enough, changing your underwear regularly and are not consorting with too many women of easy virtue. Please try not to smoke too much of that LSD stuff, you know you have a weak chest.
Daddy sends his love and asks if you would like his rash ointment?
Please try to let us know how you are getting along. Just a short letter telling us how you are would be enough. I don’t know what we have done that you treat us this way.

Lots of love,

Mummy

PS: Daddy says I should remind you that long boring letters like this one are liable to be edited.