| Transcript | - Tonight, I had a pain in me head, and this time it wasn't the whining of the hookers. So naturally I came up to my office to murder it with drink. And there on me liquor rack...was a bottle of sacramental wine from me dear brother Simon. His way of saying: "things have gone to shite! Come pray with Doctor Lamb -- we're mad as March feckin' hares!" And of course, the vintage date on the label is the code to enter his territory. Nineteen - nineteen. I should pass his bleedin' wine through me system and send it back warm.
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