Just when you thought it couldn't get worse...

The phone rang.  It was Mr Nunn.

"I've read your Plog," he said, "about Mrs Nunn and the Vintage Vamps."

"Oh," said I, half expecting a telling-off.

"Have you seen their prices?" he said in a shocked tone of voice.  "I've told your mum to sign up now and I'll take a cut.  I'm going to put her out to work!"

"Dad, erm... wouldn't that make you a pimp?"

"Well, I prefer the term 'manager'..."

"You're putting your ho out to work for you, and taking a cut.  That makes you a pimp."

"Oh well," he said cheerfully.  "I'm in London tomorrow so I might check them out.  Though you'd have to be interested in archaeology to give some of those girls a go.  Byeee!"

Shudder.