text: Meester Sharky, you look so ... normal. You would never get a table in this fancy cocktail restaurant/bistro. I, on the other 'and eat grapes and pate 'ere every day. You like my fur coat with all the fine trimming? My enormous golden rings of gold? Or maybe you like these blonde, 'ow you say?, bombshells, who are all qualified in aerobics and naked petanques, who decorate my long, maroon velvety sofa like so many soft boiled larks on a plate of pan fried foie gras and figs. You like? You can't have! Zey are all mine.<br /><br />You will never possess 'er as I possessed 'er. Domino was the best, apart from Maman. You do not understand the art of lovemaking. Just look at your inferior moustache. It is almost funny to me, non, to think of that ludicrous protuberance on your silly face, as you snuffle around Domino's love hillock like the piggy seeking the truffle in the forest, the forest heaving and swaying in the hot winds of desire! You lose again Sharky.<br /><br />When I make love to the women zey know, Sharky, zey know. Zey learn, zey learn until zey become the teacher. Not nano-maths, the arts of love. Domino was the seedling which I watered. I watered her so very often. Everywhere Sharky. Her scented petals, her proud stalk, everywhere. She will wither under your ridiculous hose, like the soufflé removed from the oven five minute too soon.<br /><br />I must go now Sharky, you bore me so with your disgraceful behaviour. It is you who will be flushed down le pissoir like the smelly thing.<br /><br />Bon chance!