The two girls left and they left us the sofa. So grateful. That woman with the carrot cake didn't really fancy our company. I think she didn't really like that we were kissing every millisecond of every milliminute of every millihour. You know what I mean. She didn't like how I made no effort to wipe the danish cramps off my mouth and just left them there hanging. It is not a fashion choice, the danish cramps, it's just practical. A practical joke. Like removing all tags from the tins in the cupboard and ending up making leeks and potatoes with chopped caramelised pear rather than tomatoes or date slice with carrot extract.