Dear Mr Randi,
Firstly, let me congratulate you on the dignity you have lived your life despite your most excellent comedy surname. Secondly, I note with interest that you are still offering the sum of one million dollars to the person "who can show, under proper observing conditions, evidence of any paranormal, supernatural, or occult power or event." Well, Amazing Randi, me old mucker, you'd better start counting the dosh, because I've seen it with my own eyes. Twenties will be fine.
You see, and you'll kick yourself for this, it was your arch-nemesis Uri Geller, who, in front of several thousand disinterested spectators, actually made Exeter City Football Club disappear from the football league. This is the kind of paranormal stunt that could not be done by a normal person, and let's face it, Geller just isn't normal. All the energies have to be right, and me old mate Uri himself was up all night sprinkling crystals all over the pitch and deflowering virgins in the goalmouth, before sacrificing a goat in the centre circle by way of half-time entertainment. Not even the great Paul Daniels at the height of his powers could have managed this stunt, but then Daniels has never been told to fuck off by my good self in the way I did to Uri.
In short, Randi, cough up. I fucking hate football at the moment, and the less time spent on this subject the better. Used notes, behind the hot water pipes in the gents toilets, Basingstoke Station. And if there's any hesitation coming up with the funds, I've still got the Debbie McGee negatives, and I think you know what I'm talking about.
Yours etc, Scary.
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