Ben and Harry's Sexual Awakening

It's not everyday I wake up with a humbug underneath my pillow — in fact today is the only time it has happened. A little black and white striped one. Unfortunately it had accumulated a rich layer of fur from the bed sheets, so eating it was firmly out of the question — firmer still after I accidentally sneezed on it. So I instead placed it on a bread and butter tray and carefully scrutinised it. It looked top-shelf. What sort of person breaks into someone's house at night to place a quality black and white striped humbug underneath their pillow? An odd one, that's for sure. And did I know any odd people? Well, put simply, no. I didn't know any normal people, either. I didn't know anyone. Right now (and then), it's just me and my humbug. But I'm not here to whinge; I'm here to wonder.

It occurred to me that a private detective might be useful, so I telephoned Aaaaaabcorp for a quote. The quote was ridiculous — $100 a day — and not particularly memorable, so I shelved that idea in favour of do-it-yourself. In the end, this may have been the wrong move, as to this day (well, I'm still in the same day), I'm still no closer to finding this humbug fiend. But what does it matter? Nothing was stolen, no one was hurt, and I have a humbug. If anything, I should be thankful that it happened. Still, no matter which way you look at it, it is mighty odd.

Anyway, just thought you'd like to know. I'll be off now.