Incoming Transmission
Source ID: Lord Commander Sir Roger Brinkley, aboard the Norfolk
Target ID: Vera Catsworthy
Message reads:
Yes, Vera, I have merry memories of our summer together at the stables outside the Brambles Estate. You will of course remember that time I had to assist with the clumsy castration of that superb stallion that Boffer owned and you made the roguish remark about how you liked the zesty zing of horse-radish sauce. That was quite an evening in the rhododendron bush, eh? Baaah!!!!
Well, all is well here. Apart from those slippery slant-eyed devils up north and their wicked ways. Still, we have as ever the pluck and spunk to face the bilious beggars down.
Recently the war has turned as dirty as a priest in a nursery, with all manner of awful atrocities being committed by either side. There have been rampant rumours of captured BAF pilots having their unmentionables used for chopstick practice.
Now I'm as crude a xenophobe and hater of these foreign devils as you may find, but it seems the war has turned desparately personal in recent weeks.
To improve the general morale of the men, I am therefore inviting the expeditionary fleet officers to the Brinkley Manor for an evening of whist, brandy and perhaps an appearance by your good self and your performing pussies. Hope you can make it. Shall you be needing custard for your closing act?
