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History : 1992

We fly to Japan again, to revisit our Eastern chums!

Orson, fearful that his ginger beard- a notorious passion-killer- may frighten the flower of Japanese womanhood, consults our considerable expertise in the soft impeachment. In a moment of immense empathy, we immediately suggest the removal of the offensive rug, and, further, we shall also pay him the (we inform him) princely sum of 100 Yen, with which he can purchase the Aga Khan's yacht, currently moored in Kamchatka! Where the sake comes from! Engorged with lust and visions of belly-dancing geishas, he readily accepts, and hobbles, bent double, over to the chair which Andy has already prepared.

I retire to the bathroom to prepare a cool, refreshing and somewhat experimental lager for Orson. Upon my return, my ears are filled with raucous laughter. "These'll have to go, for a start," Trevor says, expertly clipping Orson's eyelashes. "They don't like 'em, you know!"
We manage to procure a Japanese robe and "kuzo-soaked" blindfold, which (we inform him) is tradionally worn at such rituals of magical transformation. "Oh, thanks, lads," Orson exclaims, "you're so cultured!". Trevor proffers up the specially prepared shaving foam, which we proceed to smear over his face and chest. "Can't be too careful!" Andy ejaculates.
"You look like a million dollars," Tom enthuses, glancing up from his copy of 'Liberian Finance', which he had been perusing. We all agree, and proclaim Orson "Master Of All Sex", congratulating ourselves at a job well done- clean, professional, and most of all, done in absolute...

"That'll be 10,000 Yen, ladies. Each," Andy quips, deadly serious.


Just another cult band

Fame! Riches! Buggery!