'Mister Juicy and me, we're going places!' he told me enthusiastically, 'We'll be the new Morecambe and Wise, or maybe the Millennial Chuckle Brothers!'
He was in the dining room rehearsing his act with Mr Juicy and Byron when the postman called.
'Ah!' he exclaimed, 'that will be my Contract!' but in fact it was another Agony Uncle letter bringing a poignant new moral conundrum soliciting Wilson's perceptive yet sympathetic advice.
The letter reads:
❝Dear Uncle WilsonW frowned and regarded the missive for a moment, before remarking, 'Uncle Zoltan, eh? I shall have to give this some serious consideration. If I reply too honestly I'm liable to cause grave offence, so I need to respond with a measure of tact. Oh, and feigned compassion!'
Several months ago our cherished Uncle Zoltan disappeared without a trace. We all miss him terribly but don't know how to proceed. We have made many public appeals and circulated his photograph, but without success.
Would you advise that we engage a Professional Consulting Detective? Or a Psychic Medium?
Yours very sincerely,
Two Heartbroken Bees❞
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