Ian, Geoff here. There's a bit of a shit storm brewing over here which I need you to plug before the brown cloud bursts all over my head. Turns out some okra-chewing limp-wrist Guardian hack found out about my little conversation with the lad from Defence in the clubhouse on Sunday. I leaked a few more details on the whole Coulson phone hacking thing to buy us a bit of time before he spills the lentils, but we need to clear our dollars out of the Caymans otherwise he's going to follow the paper trail all the way up my chutney. Can you and Tina Turner find some way to make it disappear over there? If the worst comes to the worst just head over to the casino, knock back a few brandies and work your magic on that blackjack table. Remember that night in Macau when you stuffed all the chips down your arse crack while the croupier was wiping the vomit off his shoes? Like that, but try not to get deported this time.

By the way I spoke to your parents like you asked, they said they'd have to find your adoption certificate before they can fill out those forms. You did know you're adopted right?

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