Once upon a time (all good fairytales start that way and I’m a master of telling porkies) there was a young maiden that I lusted after but her father wouldn’t agree to our marriage for three reasons:

• I was already married. I didn’t see any problem as long as my wife didn’t find out.

• She was only 12 years old. That was what attracted me to her

• She didn’t like me. Now that was a problem 🤔

What could I do but have her abducted and conveyed to a secret island owned by a friend who can’t testify to my innocence due to his tragic death by suicide in prison.

I would have managed to keep all these peccadillos, which aren’t approved of by plebeians, private if I hadn’t had to pay a fortune to a prostitute who threatened to blow the whistle! What was I to do? I paid up, but that decision came back to bite me. I ask, you what chance does a wealthy villain have in world of poor but honest citizens?

I inherited a commercial empire but I wanted one that could rival the British Empire, on which the sun had finally set. My predecessors had already established military establishments around the globe and I wanted it.

First thing to do though is get hold of that little boy who just pointed out that I’m standing here in my underwear. I’m all in favour of the right to free speech, as long as you don’t use it. I might save that little Dutch boy so I can torture him into revealing the weak spots in the dams in case I want to flood the Netherlands.

Refugee children lost in the wood and seeking refuge from a big bad wolf will be welcome on our island, as long as they don’t arrive by canoe in which they will be suspected of being infiltrators.

The correct way to enter our company is to report a rape to the authorities, the official will then rape you to confirm that you’ve been raped and give you a ticket to the island.

That sickly son of yours is not my concern, I can’t remember the names of all my children so why should I care about yours?

I’m popular wherever I go, didn’t you hear the reception I got in Scotland? Thousands turned out to welcome me. I couldn’t make out what they were saying for the sound of bagpipes, but I took it they were pleased to see me.

Oh no we weren’t!

Oh yes you were! Apart from the commie bar steward who, when I asked for whisky showed me 40 brands of Scotch and no bourbon. I’ll change that when I take over.

One day I will rule the world, and everyone will live miserably ever after.