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Nick love,

Heck of a show you put on last night. Really felt like the "old days." You screamed. You strutted. You tore off your trousers. You most certainly left an impression on the crowd. There were tears.

Problem is, Nicky, you weren't on stage at the Orpheum. You were in the ladie's loo of the tearoom down Oxford Street. Took myself and a handful of nonplussed Bobbies to all night to pry you out of there.

And those tears -- they were yours, love. You bawled for six hours straight int he station house. First time I'd ever seen an actually *embarrassed* Constable.

Next time, leave the stagecraft for the actual stage, would you?

Virgil

PS: I know you need your fellow yellows and reds, but for fuck's sake, try and not take any blues while they¨re running through your system. Or better yet, stick to the Joy, Nicky. It makes you a hell of a lot more pleasant.

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