Wednesday, 30 September
Spike,
Pardon the interruption of our epistolary give-and-take, but I and my team of colorfully clad accountants (I had them doff your superhero regalia some time back, and now make them dress as clowns and harlequins -- they make protesting noises at times, but it is all in good fun, eh?) have been hard a-work attempting to prepare my future for an initial public offering. The first step, or one of them anyway, is apparently to determine my present net worth. Unfortunately for the task at hand, I have so many investments in so many countries, at so many interest rates and in so many different currencies, the relative value of each in constant motion against the others; suffice to say that my worth is forever indeterminate and uncertain, other than its unstoppable general growth.
The perhaps unscientific conclusion is that apparently my fortune is as a gigantic, vibrating, all-absorbing gelatinous mass which threatens to conquer the globe. Or was that the motion picture I fell asleep to on the television the other night, after another hard day's glorying in my enormous wealth? I must cease consuming bowlsful of pepperoni and Spanish olives before retiring.
Oh! and re: the Spreldinger: the blindness of the general public has never slowed the progress of progress in my household! I currently have six of the little miracles in the antechamber chained together in a serial circuit, and have yet to be disappointed.
Yours,
Boggle D. Mind
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