Oh Dear

Nigel Falange and George Galway often spent time together trying hard to avoid the members of the British press.

They knew a walk through the enchanted forest was likely to be about as peaceful as it gets.

But the tranquillity was punctured when they came upon a skeleton of a deer sitting on a stone with a quizzical look where its eye might have once been.

George asked Nigel, “Do you know what you call a deer with a patch over one eye?”

Nigel replied, “This sounds like a bad idea.”

George nodded, “That’s right. Now what do you call a blind deer?”

“No idea,” said Nigel.

“Right again,” said George, “What do you call a blind deer sitting on a stone?”

“Still no idea.” Nigel was getting more worried by the moment.

“Finally here’s a hard one,” said George. “What do you call an enchanted deer skeleton, sitting on a stone in an magical forest, cocking its head to one quizzical side and raising a single, powerful-looking bony finger as if about to perform a spell, perhaps to turn you into something horrendous like a member of the paparazzi?”

“Sir.”