The Satsuma Complex

by Bob Mortimer

imagine the dogs are called Zak Briefcase and Lengthy Parsnips).

Sadly, because of her ‘crumbly bones’, she had ended up flogging computers at the local PC World because it was an easy gig. She told me she got the sack from this job when she told her manager to ‘Go and fuck a puppet on the moon’.

‘I don’t know, Gary, I’m more worried that your mate was found dead. They’ve probably cordoned off the crime scene. Cordoning gives me the shivers.’ ‘What, because it reminds you of James Corden?’ ‘The only thing that reminds me of James Corden is folded pizza. Be serious now.

My office is on the second floor. On a hidden bit of architrave around its door I have written in tiny letters ‘large bananas’. I occasionally take a glance at it to cheer myself up.

‘YOU ARE NOT LEAVING UNTIL WE HAVE SUNG THE NATIONAL ANTHEM TOGETHER AS AN ACT OF RECONCILIATION AND GOODWILL.’

‘My name’s Laurence, by the way.’ (It wasn’t. His name was John. John Bell.) ‘Pleased to meet you. Is that really your surname? “Bytheway”?’