Lord Handjob

…strove as best he could to cover his flinch with a sneer, determining that the Curmudgeonly mention of Lord Handjob was best left for another more propitious occasion.

…pleasure, not unalloyed I’ll admit but the pleasure nonetheless, of several decades of close acquaintance with my kinsman Lord Hendjob.”

…table, whereupon Dr Mark Wankstain is astonished to find himself perusing a copy of contract of marriage between Lord Handjob and a party the identity of whom is no longer obscured by a strategically-placed Cheseham thumb.

“Chill,” he said nastily, “like bankers like like like la-di-dah like Lord like Handjob, yeah?” and, with extraordinary nastiness, “peace.”

…his thoughts turned from the unbearable cant of titled bohemians, and dwelt more upon the continuing indisposition of Lord Handjob, whom they were presently visiting in a vey discreet sanatorium in Westbury-on-Trym.

…And then, vey promptly apprehending the dilapidated state of Lord Handjob, he sank back into his wonted desuetude, his salutation dying upon his lips. Mrs Gomez, prim and proper and exhausted behind her desk, eyeing quizzically Lord Handjob’s manifest disarray, summoned up notwithstanding a suitable fervour.

…in his office, listlessly, Sir Hearty Luncheon bought some money, and fretfully sold some other money. His partner, Lord Handjob, came to mind then. A wicked old goat, considered Sir Hearty, moreover one who revelled in his wickedness. Eminently suited to that dissolute life in Palm Springs. A fine thing, no doubt, to own such a thick skin as did Lord Handjob, to be able to withstand so blithely all…

…Sir Ezra Tertiary-Syphilis did not this time grace with his presence that gathering, although Lord Handjob very thoughtfully sent his salutations in the form of a personalised card featuring a photograph of himself disporting with champagne and a pair of his nieces in a hot-tub, and enclosing a cheque in a not inconsiderable sum drawn upon certain accommodating bankers in Reno.