Dear Dreary.
My son has eyes in the back of his head. He's been tormented for this affliction since nursery school.
We've tried everything. Drawing eyes on his face where they should be, dressing him back to front, even shaving the back of his head so he can see properly. Whatever we try he still looks pretty silly.
He constantly lives his life looking over his shoulder. This is of course to see where he is
going.
He's not a very rational young chap either, often losing arguments as his reasoning is often flawed and people say that he hasn't got a leg to stand on.........which brings me onto his other affliction. I'm sick if pushing him around in a shopping trolley, my back's killing me.
Could you recommend a strong painkiller?
Lionel Pear.
Treal.

Dear Lionel.
Forget painkillers, what you need is an optician. The thing you have been calling your son all these years is actually a gonk. Originally thought to have become extinct in the seventies, the gonk gene has survived amongst the intellectually challenged, thriving on a lifestyle of filthy council estate air, chip fat, and weekly bingo sessions. Predominant in northern England, the gene has quietly established itself amongst low-life benefit cheats and scumbags too thick to know better. It was always going to be just a matter of time before the gonks emerged from their host families in order to meet up and breed, then re-establish themselves in vast communities across the country. You must therefore destroy your "son" before things get out of hand. Put a reversible blindfold on him, secure him in a large cardboard box, then wheel him to the council tip before placing in the skip marked "Danger! Gonks!". Then get back to your meaningless, squalid life. Glad to be a comfort.
Drears.

What a relief!
Could I not donate it to a local school?
They were always a symbol of good luck sat on your desk during examinations.