“Higgins me boy!” pronounced Rodney Candycane at leisure. He was adorned in his most precious ruby robes and amethyst rings, a quite fashionable combination for November. “How’s the life of the proud constable been treatin’ yeh?”

“Ello there, Rodney. Tidin’s from the woife to ya. Constables be what they be, nuthin’ changed much ’round them netheregions.”

“I see you’re proverbial as ever.”

“Wot’s that supposed to mean?”

“Oh nothing…” Rodney, at that moment, seemed to retreat into his thoughts. “I just remember, years ago, you and I…so much passion! You and me in Athens; Batman and Robin in Moscow. The Pickwick Club was truly a tale of two cities in those days. But oh, Robin’s Manly Sex Shoppe got closed, the KBG shut down Batman’s prostitution ring… Things eventually just got bleak. How’s Oli doin’, by the by?”

“Still ridin’ that sea horse around Stockholm.”

“Yes, that fairy-boy…”

KNOCK KNOCK

“Who-ever could that be?”

…TBC!