"where are we?" i asked, looking around at the rather drab interior of what looked like an old Victorian house. Tweed, who had been momentarily stunned by this wholly unexpected turn of events, looked around in a dazed fashion.
"right now," he said slowly, "i'd say it's anybody's guess where we are." He glanced over at the nondescript man in a bowler hat who was huddled up in a corner as if he were trying to merge himself with the peeling wallpaper. "well, mr. anybody?"
mr. anybody just shook his head miserably.


ok, now time to compare this admittedly bad scrap of forgery into the VMA? or just confiscate and burn it....


toodles

Welcome to the fforum, and do you know, for the first time in ages somebody has left me with nothing to say... Congratulations!

I actually re-read it backwards in case there was a hidden message. In the nicest possible way, I mean I do that kind of thing anyway... Somehow I think you'll fit in here...



PSD

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This is the work of an Italian narco-anarchic collective. Don't bother insulting them, they can't read English anyway.

Now that is a first!

Welcome and a bottle of the fairly passable would be on it's way but Jack Schitt nicked it!