My dearest and most fremulous of readers, as you are aware, I am, like honest Abe Lincoln and Taylor from Planet of the Apes, morally opposed to human slavery. That said, having access to a slave of my own has proven hugely satisfying. Readers, I fear that whatever cosy morality you cling to, all would be abandoned if your power too surpassed that of the common stock.
Dr.Fell, now idiotic through my forcing him to swallow countless Bhujeum pills, is a delightful slave. Whatsoever my whim, he satisfies it. On Wednesday night, purely for sport, I bade him rhythmically beat his forehead with a chicken thigh during the entirety of The Apprentice. When Sir Alan Sugar announced that he would be firing Simon, I bade Fell comfort me by submerging both of his elbows in a pot of scalding broth and chant, "Sir Alan Sugarpuff" until he passed out. The sight of this warmed the cockles of my heart.
At present, I have sent Dr.Fell to buy me a fish and chip tea. A slave is a great resource for avoiding such tiresome jobs, but I have a rather better and more ingenious plan in mind for Fell.
An eventually-aborted attempt to sketch Dr. Fell as though he looked like Gok Wan (TV fashionista)