Female admirer: So what's your next post about, Nick?Nick: I've got nothing more to say. I've said it all. Everything. I've covered all angles. Peeked in every window.
FA: Don't be silly. There must be hundreds of exciting and important things you've never even thought about.
Nick: Nope. They've all been aired. All my absurd neuroses, from A to Z. All my political dogmas, in mind-numbing detail. All my sexual fetishes, complete with lurid graphics.
FA: I don't remember anything about sexual fetishes. Are you sure about that? Give me some examples.
Nick: I'm sorry, but on legal grounds, for health and safety reasons, and to protect the privacy of individuals who're now in very prominent positions in public life, I can't make any further comments.
FA: How disappointing. You could have given us some fascinating insights into the dark corners of your tangled personality, the seamy undercurrents of your complex inner life.
Nick: I doubt it. I'm quite ordinary, really. I'm just your bog-standard bloke in the street, the man on the Clapham omnibus, the guy with the pie. Well, apart from the cross-dressing and the chicken impersonations, obviously.
FA: Obviously. But all these horrifying world events. The floods in Pakistan. The dwindling helium reserves. The sudden popularity of padded bras. You must have something to say about these extraordinary developments?
Nick: Nah, it's all been said much better by a thousand overpaid hacks. Why say it all again? You're not wearing a padded bra, I hope?
FA: Jeez, what do you take me for? I'm 100 per cent natural from top to bottom.
Nick: Sure, and the Pope's a Buddhist. Now if you'll excuse me, I think the guinea pig's eating my mascara.
