Ian, Geoff here. What the fuck happened to you, I thought they’d put a couple of bullets in the back of your fat pink head and dumped you at the bottom of the Med? That greasy fuck butler Cleese has got something to do with this, I saw him being dragged out of a van in bracelets this morning as I was leaving, he was shouting something about James Murdoch and buttplugs. I think they might have stitched him up as well. Anyway, good work on the Ken photo, they’ve dropped all the charges against me, although I hope you cropped my bell end out of that photo before you sent it to John. Are you coming back to London? We need to get together over a few brandies, a couple of cigars and the Telegraph business section and work out where we go from here.

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