That’s because your sole yardstick is money, Hugo

You don’t know any better. You have the mindset of a starving Muscovite who grew up in communist housing and ended up joining the Russian mafia to be able to buy a whole lot of expensive bad-taste things which he doesn’t particularly understand or even enjoy except for the fact that they are what he believes to be status symbols and proof that he is rich.

You could use some for an education: ‘in case’ is two words and not one.

You don’t even have the nous to understand that in normal society (that is, where there are no strippers, whores, cocaine-traffickers and crackheads), I’m the giraffe and you’re the turtle. In any case, we speak British English in Malta so it’s a tortoise and not a turtle.

But it’s interesting that you should pick a giraffe. A fortunate coincidence, because it’s the only reason I looked.

Giraffe was my nickname at school for a time because of what was then my exceptionally long neck. Well, exceptionally long compared to Maltese necks, I suppose, given that many people here don’t even have one.

Have a nice Sunday watching Scarface on a loop (remember, the world is yours) but take care not to get knocked on the head by any false titties on the way in to your cabin. At your age, you could easily end up hospitalised with concussion.

Your life is my idea of a nihilistic (Google it) hell. No doubt, my life is your idea of hell. This used to be a free country. Now it’s a liberal one, so each to his own and never mind the difference. Say hello to my little friend Manuel Mallia at your next Paceville Operators meeting. Be sure to take him out for a spin in one of your new toys, but don’t tell him how much the fuel costs or you’ll have to stretcher him out.