Squattocrat Heights

…wing of Lord Snatch, and had very much enjoyed his hospitality during his residency at … er … Squattocrat Heights, a garishly daubed and structurally unsound edifice in the ‘Nam Road, where they tarried a while after Herod’s blind fury despatched that natural aristocrat, and where they read and propagated the ravings of Mao, Kim Il Sung, Pol Pot, Proudhon and Abimael Guzman, and were generally to be found at…

…Valerie, untangling her green and scaly limbs from the thin and hairless appurtenances of the scion of the House of Snatch, “you want coffee? Only fucking instant, I’m afraid.”

…Indeed, I confess m’self positively overwhelmed by the ancestral pull of … er … Squattocrat Heights. One last half-decent hit orff this enema cove, and I shall bend my steps unto the beloved hearth.”

…through the rusty gates and up the familiar and slimy steps to the foot of … er … Squattocrat Heights. It had been … how long? Thirty-six hours? By Snatchian standards, rilly no more than an average κρυπτεία (although, taking into account the equine character of so much of the proceedings, the mot juste would perhaps have been 'chevauchée’).

…- plucking most impertinently His Lordship’s sleeve, whereupon that etiolated and yet residually noble sapling of the House of Snatch rounded upon the Perkin Warbeck of Lower Kingsdown, and seizing him by the collar demanded to know what the divil he thought he meant by makin’ so bold with the person of a Peer of the Realm, to which unimpeachably reasonable inquiry that base helot responded with a demeaningly servile…