No.239

For every day since 1949 I’ve been accused of murder. Cold blooded murder. Do you have any idea how that makes a man feel? I’m a good man — I go to church, I pay my taxes, I once bought a copy of the Big Issue — so why the constant finger pointing? I’ve done all sorts to try and clear my name, I even took a lie detector test live on mid-morning television, but still I’m greeted with gasps and shudders every time I go to the supermarket. Can’t a man polish his candlestick in the comfort of his own billiard room without being called a murderer?