Mrs Duck Week: An Apology
In our September 2003 story "PiSS: The Curse of Piss", subsequently republished in the paperback classic 'Tales of Mirth and Woe', we inadvertently stated that the fragrant, delightful, charming and somewhat voluptuous birthday girl Mrs Duck has "no sense of humour".
I refer, of course, to her rather negative reaction to my drunkenly pissing all over her dressing table, her hair drier and several rather expensive bottles of perfume, after an alcohol-fuelled office Christmas Party ended in the all-too-predictable woe.
Granted, she wasn't particularly pleased to have to mop up wee at two in the morning while I complained that the room wouldn't stop spinning, but she maintains that, even then, her sense of humour was entirely intact.
This was because I had also unwittingly pissed over my Christmas presents, which were concealed under the dressing table, and one of my most prized possessions is now a signed photo of the 1991 Arsenal title-winning squad, complete with a charming yellow fringe.
Allowing me to receive my own wee for Christmas, Mrs Duck claims, shows that she is as normal as the next lunatic.
In the light of this information, we now humbly accept that Mrs Duck is in full possession of a funny bone, which she demonstrated by forcing a copy of Tales of Mirth and Woe up my bottom and laughing like a stupid.
We are so, so sorry.
Could she also stop kicking me in the groin?
The greatest test of my lovely wife's humour came, as a matter of fact, last weekend, when she reached the part in my book about Rodeo Sex. You may recall that Rodeo Sex is a sexual act, when, at the height of doggy-style coitus you might say something along the lines of "Your sister likes this as well", before seeing how long you can stay on.
She turned to me and asked: "You're not talking about my sister, are you?"
"Which one?", it turns out, is the wrong answer.
So: We give further proof of Mrs Duck's sense of humour with tomorrow's Tale of Mirth and Woe, a tale of duck slaughter called "Wello".
Poor, dead Wello.