Dear Blog Boy: After the Liberals win and the Prime Minister makes you a Senator, can I be your faithful hunchbacked manservant? I’ll change my name to Igor and everything. – S.M.
Do I appreciate the offer? Yes. Of course I do. But I’ve been down this road before with hunchbacked manservants. And it’s always the same story. They change their name to Igor and maybe develop a comic-tragic limp of some kind. I go to the trouble of getting their lab coat tailored to fit the precise contours of their hump. And then the problems begin. Igor gets a little sloppy pulling the levers that deliver life-inducing energy to my unholy corporeal abominations that are an affront to nature. Igor starts to ignore the knocks at the door from attractive, underclothed stewardesses whose cars have broken down on foggy nights. Then Igor unionizes my laboratory and joins the Brotherhood of Hunchbacked Manservants, Midget Sidekicks and Steelworkers. And all of a sudden the Invisible Man and Dracula are totally razzing me about it on bowling night. Been there, done that.