'Thanks for coming, everyone. Help yourself to Garibaldis. They really are squashed flies inside them. At least, that's the party line. Now, let's begin. We all know the Society is in trouble. Children these days aren't scared of anything. I read it in The Daily Mail. Authority, prison, ghosts, daleks – they're just bouncing off these kids like fruit gums. They hardly ever even show Chitty Chitty Bang Bang on TV any more. So can anyone actually give us some good news? Clive?'
'Well [shuffles papers proudly], yes, actually. I'm quite excited about this one. There's some truly excellent work being done in the Dulwich Village area.'
'Dulwich Village? Where the mere idea of a bus running down the main street is so inharmonious to the overall vision they've been banished to the outskirts?'
'That's right, Keith. That's what makes this so exciting. Just look at this incredibly sinister dummy wedged in a tree in the playground of an infant school.'
'God, that is really horrible. Simple, sure, but devastatingly effective. Firstly, they've taken the battle to the target's very own play area. Secondly, they've really gone back to basics. Dummies, guys, mannequins – all fantastically disturbing. We've really been caught napping here. The primitive approach is a masterstroke. Carry on, Clive, carry on.'
'Well, I particularly like the way the head droops to one side at such an angle as to make it look exactly like an asphyxiated corpse. It's just so… haunting.'
'Like the bit in Jesus Christ Superstar when Judas hangs himself, which I'm not too big to say I found very traumatic as a child?'
'Yes, Keith, exactly like that. And allow me to draw your attention to the emaciated, prisoner-of-war-style flesh-coloured stick leg. Of which there is only one.'
'One! And is it…? Yes! Footless too! Quite, quite brilliant. Oof, I don't mind saying, I think someone just walked over my grave. Shall we break for lunch?'