Toki-Yo on the other hand - not so easily perturbed by often being mistaken for the now powdered Tokyo in a cup of lukewarm water makes a great laxative for the easily constipated, and should never be taken perturbed unless stirred first with a bowl of Maraschino cherries and a dollop of double-thick glazing - insists that he is neither related nor the lovechild of Don King and Betty Crocker, and only has single glazed windows which are quite often shattered by red herrings playing water polo with blowfish and clam shells. Crabs, on the other hand, are damned itchy and somewhat embarrassing.

And as such, crustaceans are right prawns and don't even like chess, so they all leave for the nearest barbecue to cavort lasciviously with the red onions, celery, carrots and chillis. Sauce, of course, was not invited. The farmer and his wife in the meantime would spit roast if they knew that their prize porker was spinning quite happily on the rotisserie floor - having just joined the Whirling Dervishes - in imbueing glory.