Hello, Insiders.
David here.
A few weeks back we posted this piece of truth in the hope that it would encourage you to leave some reviews on our books…
One of our loyal readers was quickly in touch with some burning questions regarding the unicorns. Questions I was only too happy to answer, and that I’ll share now for the benefit of all of you…
Where do you keep the unicorns?
I keep mine in my back garden. The glittery dung gets everywhere, but I always have a talking point when I host a BBQ.
Matt keeps his in a single-berth garage. Fourteen of them. Every day he winces when the doorbell rings, fearing a surprise visit from the RSPCA.
Can I pet them?
You can pet my grazing unicorns free of charge.
Matt charges £25 a head, and his unicorns are liable to bite.
Do they poop rainbows?
Mine do. Great big proud ones with pots of gold at the end.
Matt’s poop pure dark matter. It’s odourless but incredibly volatile and may end the universe as we know it.
What are their names?
Mine are called Pumpkin, Lumpkin, Hubert, and Gwyneth Paltrow.
Matt never named his. He says he doesn’t want to make it any more difficult than it has to be “When the time comes”. I don’t know what he means by that, and frankly, I don’t want to know.
What do they eat for breakfast?
Mine eat cud, wildflowers, and honeyed crumpets.
Matt’s subsist on diesel, used dishwater, and old car parts.
What’s their favourite music?
Mine bob their heads to Haddaway’s What’s is Love?
Matt’s are forced to listen to Japanese noisecore. He says it relaxes them, so why do they keep using their enchanted horns to commit bloody suicide pacts? Why? FOR THE LOVE OF GOD, WHY?!
Anyway, I trust that answers your questions to your satisfaction. If you don’t mind, I have to go feed Gwyneth Paltrow her crumpet.
Love and sunshine,
David
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