Claire was sick of his constant dribble about drabbling; they’d get up in the morning and he’d be like:
‘What would a pimple say if it could talk?’
Who’d want a fried egg sandwich after that?
It never stopped; at dinner it would be:
‘Did you ever have an imaginary friend?’
Then last thing at night he’d whisper:
‘What about a psychotic cat that flits from one perverted owner to another?’
The final straw was when he dropped this bombshell:
‘The cleaner at uni once caught me spanking the salami.’
She stabbed him through the ear with his drabble pen.