‘- bribery of the local newspaper proprietor, hacking of the REF results and the European fly zone, endemic corruption, forgery, embezzlement of research funds, serial encouragement of hoaxing, running up a bar bill at the Happy Burger Happy Wine Bar, neglect of teaching duties, failure to weed the marigold plantations, appointment of unqualified staff, essays marked with no regard for national benchmarking standards, absence of response to external examiners’ recommendations, the state of the piggery –’
‘That’s not me’, I interrupt. ‘That’s the Deputy under-Janitor.’
‘- not to mention any number of seemingly unmotivated deaths and dangling plot lines’, continues Ser Basil, turning red. ‘Do you even know the meaning of the word probity?’
There is a pause, dear Reader, while I think for a moment.*
‘It all amounts to gross dereliction of duty’, Ser Basil continues, turning scarlet. ‘You have dragged the good name of UWL and its Eastern possessions through the mud. I have decided that you are to be de-frocked.’
You may wonder about my reaction to this.
Obviously, dear Reader, I am unmoved.
But wait. Ser Basil’s noble countenance has turned puce. He is frothing at the mouth slightly. There is a strange whiff of sulphur in the air.
Something strange is happening.