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Yeehah! Captain Fabulous 1 EdZilla 0. Own goal by EdZilla in first minute of play. ‘And with a mighty bound, he was free.’ I now have the power-crazed harpy in the hand of my palm; or whatever. Don’t split hairs! I still can’t believe my luck! It was at Din Dins. She actually admitted it. Like it was normal. I mean; hello? I should explain. EdZilla has some pretensions to having a voice; like Foghorn Leghorn, only with less feathers. But I bet she never sang in St. Giles’ Choir in Edinburgh? Unlike; say, for example, MOI.

Machiavellian Machinations

As part of The Master Plan, I was being polite about her singing. And it worked! So much so, that by the pudding course she was beginning to unwind about her dark and daft musical background. Now read on. WARNING Not for readers of a nervous disposition.

It would seem that she’s been married twice! And I was merely wondering what drugs she had used, when out of the blue, EdZilla regales us with her essay into voice projection. Evidently, having buried Husband Number One under the patio or wherever, she wombles off to a singing coach – because H No 1 had been rash enough to express some concern about noise pollution whenever she began to sing. Now mark well, and inwardly digest. She was by then twenty-eight. Christ! By then I was on my second wife and hundredth fraud! So. No. Seriously. EdZilla slopes off to Glasgow to meet this voice coach… Who, first thing he does as she enters, is ask her to lie down on the floor! Straight up! And, according to EdZ, he has to be at least seventy years old. Dirty Old Man! But here comes the reeeelly goood bit. She does. Never met the bloke before in her puff; young, and if not innocent, then clearly as thick as a set of Inner London phone directories, she simply lies down on the floor. While the DOM invites her to take some deep breaths. I mean: hello? And the rest. EdZilla says, according to the DOM, he wanted to see how her diaphragm worked. Yeah; I’ll just bet he did! But which type of diaphragm are we talking about?

Apparently things got a bit vague after that… Say no more.

Confidence of the Confessional

Obviously, this sort of info must remain forever between we few. (Laughter) Bronco nearly pissed herself. As did Anselm, whose kindness and patience know no bounds. I wonder if Valkerie knows? Because, once she does, it will go viral. Such a shame too. So now I’ve got the goods on EdZilla, I don’t expect any more nonsense about scenes of gratuitous sex and violence in the books – wake up EdZilla; these are the best sort!

Paranoid Publisher

Mac tells me to be careful about crossing EdZilla; the big girl’s blouse! He’s been too long married. Probably believes that guff Kipling wrote about the female of the species being bedlier than the male. Or something. I’ve got the goods on her – and I can see the difference already. She was actually nice about Chapter Five of ‘The Final Arbiter’! In fact, she’s invited me round for dinner to discuss it. She even apologised in advance for the mess; seems she’s having her patio renewed…