I just thought everyone should know that my older sister Mad Aunt Bernard (she is one hundred and eleventy-twelve, you know) is being released from Worthing Nick tomorrow. Yes, I know - she did INDEED keep that quiet. Her husband, Cybil, is off to fetch her first thing - bless.
Well, you know she went to visit her sister there (who was doing a stretch for headbutting an MP) but the silly thing got caught smuggling in toadspawn curries (a local delicacy in those parts, though now banned under the 'Well I Dont Like It So You'll Jolly Well Have To Lump It' Act 1822) and organising illegal cheese rolling bouts.
Of course, it wasn't the fencing they objected to (although it could have done with a tad of creosote) but the fact that she flatly refused to bribe the guards (who were quite sorely put out, apparently) and, when challenged, she started with her incantations and ... well, the rest you can guess.
The governor's hair was falling out anyway - the fella looked downright dropsical, I'd say - but the poor dear copped it for threatening one of her Majesty's best with witchcraft and alopecia. However, she really can't grumble, as they did take six other counts of Goat Skipping (highly dangerous if they're the 'horny' type) and Gibbon Snibbling into account.
I say she got off lightly. I didn't get where I am today by snibbling gibbons. Bloody silly if you ask me, but there it is. So just be nice to her when you see her, will you?