Sentence The Fourhundredand ninetysixth 

Martin Elginbrod WS QC and Saloon Bar, had driven down the night before, with his entourage – actually Oleg, the chauffeur, drove, but as everything was under the control of the Edinburgh dual-practitioner, he gets the credit for transporting himself, his two young boys, his cook and the two maids to Trumpington Hall Presidential Golf Course, Country Club and Fun Fair, where they were given the keys to the Vice-Presidential Suite and shown down to the basement; when Elginbrod asked the three porters who had laboured manfully under the weight of all their luggage (for a one-night stopover) where the Presidential Suite was, one of them pointed up and said “15^th Floor, Jimmy, by invitation only,” and Elginbrod responded, rather pompously, “I have been invited,” at which the porters exchanged glances and the talkative one, obviously their leader said, as they left, “a couple o baw-bees short o a boab, thon glaekit galloot,” and the sound of their laughter echoed along the underground passages; ignoring the dissensus, Elginbrod set to distributing his party between the two bedrooms and rather small sitting room, feeling that to call this the Vice-Presidential Suite was rather an embellishment, for what had once, probably been the cook's rooms when this house was the centre of a large Estate, and then, leaving them to find the 'en-suite' for themselves, he made his way back along corridors, round corners, past numbered and un-numbered doors and up stairs and along more

corridors and round more corners, down stairs and along yet more corridors and through a door which led him onto a fire-escape which he descended to a small enclosed courtyard like a rideau or defensive centre of the great castellated building and re-entered the building by another door and then went down even more stairs and along a corridor until he turned a corner and found himself, at a dead end, and standing outside a door marked Vice-Presidential Suite, so he opened the door and walked in, to the sight of a tall blonde woman dressing in front of a mirror, and seeing him, she turned and

asked: “where are be trunks?” at which he shrugged and asked: “who are you?” and she laughed and said: “is this Candid Camera or is this Candid Camera?” and he said, “it's called You've Been Framed, now” and she asked him to pour her a Bourbon but, as she had no luggage and he didn't know where it was, he pulled out his hip flask and poured them each a measure of Glenfiddoch in

tumblers he found under the wash-hand basin and she asked him his name and he told her and asked hers and she said: “Penelope Halfpenny, President Trumpington's running mates mate,” and he laughed and whisky went up his nose and he sneezed and apologised and she became hysterical and he apologised again and she kept on laughing and he joined in and they collapsed into the middle of the bed where the mattress sagged and she asked him if he worked at the Hotel and he said “no, I'm

an Advocate,” and she said, “I love Advocaat,” and she asked if he were kith and kin and he said, “are ye askin?” and she said, “aye, am askin,” and he said “you've got to have a sense of humour,” and she asked “why?” and he said “well, with a name like Penny Ha'penny,” and she burst out laughing and said, “no-one's ever called me that! and I never realised! whaddaya know? OMG! I'm a Big Bike!"