Q – Dear Mr Key, I read with great interest your piece on swarfega pitfalls. I myself have often experienced swarfega pratfalls. I think it would be very helpful for your readers if you could provide a clear, comprehensive, and slightly hysterical explanatory string of paragraphs on the differences between pitfalls and pratfalls. Should you require my assistance in this matter, I am available for interview at the corner table in Old Ma Popsicle’s Tea Shoppe every day between the crack of dawn and the engulfing shroud of pitch black starless night.
A – My correspondent is deluded in thinking there is such a thing as a swarfega pratfall. He or she is obviously confusing the phrase with Swarfegaprat Falls, a mighty cataract of tumbling water which can be found on the outskirts of Pointy Town. (Turn left by the cement statue of Hattie Jacques and keep going until you hear the roar and slosh of a mighty cataract of tumbling water.)
Mr Key has neglected to mention another possibility, that his correspondent was confusing a swarfega pratfall with a moderately notable news story that appeared last year. Mechanics Weekly reported that a doltish grease monkey obsessed with washing his hands had slipped on a patch of engine oil while doing so, and was attempting to sue his employers for compensation. This appeared under the headline Swarfega-prat Falls.
Bravo! Now tell us the one about the Pellagra Staff Wars, Mr Key! (or about the Alfalfa Grass Twerp, or the Satrap’s Wall Gaffer, or any of the Altar-sprawl Gaffes).