(But I didn’t say which prime minster, did I?)
All in all, what is your favorite sandwich?
When I was a boy, famously, I prepared sandwiches for the great and the good, scraping mayonnaise and mustard with delicate runcible spoons. No, I think, rather, they were corncrake knives. That was a go, right enough, slopping on pickles by the peck, slicing them up with whatever we had to hand, ruminating on tea time all the while. xxxx, rest his soul, was rather fond of chewing on watercress. The rest of us called him “Cressy”. Don’t think he cared for it much.
When you have time for it, what do you do in your leisure time?
Just the other day a man barged into my office, bit surprising, and startled me while I was stirring my tea–three drops spilled on the ink blotter–anyway, this man, whose face was all red and puffy, I assumed, quite wrongly, from running up the stairs. Turns out, he’d been on holiday and discovered a new allergy, to crabcakes, I believe. Work, work, work, that’s all we talked about, him being my assistant, only I hadn’t recognized him with the redness and the puffiness.
What sorts of questions will you actually give a straight answer to?
The Sphinx was a great one for questions, really, tops at the questions. I mean, apart from being a mainly mythological creature whose statue got its nose blown off by some overeager Napoleonic soldiers. Something about legs, if I remember right. And did you know that Napoleon really wasn’t as short as all that, perfectly average for the time, it’s only compared to us modern longjohns that he seems rather short. Anyway, that’s all the time I have for today.
…thank you. For your time.