It was dark outside when Donald answere the door. She had said she would be there at 6 o clock but now it was more like 9.00. She was upstart and asked if she could use him for no good

For a moment he thought she might be a tory M.P. But she didn't seem quite as psychotic as most of the people he'd met latelty so he but he didn't vote for her anyay.

Donald made a living nowadays as a biscuit maker /agony aunt/ gusset sniffer/ bunting enthusiast

.............

She spent days trailing around after him, collecting video footage for her net site and listening to stories about the time Shiela Tequilla and he had "been too much for Naples".

The pantomime developed loosely around the tale of Cinderella. Donald was Donald, the Prince was a me, the Sista a me too and Buttons a me again

It all went well until the night of the performance, when, after drinking the free vodka, Donald regreted having got involved at all and started to wish he had never left scotland

She was guarenteed satisfaction by her new toy boy from Hong Kong

and the hotel fire alarm went off at 5.00am in the morning. They all looked dog rough, except for Donald who had matching blue cotton Pyjamas.

They never found out "who done it" but she was a good girl