Gentlemen, shoot your linen!

I bump into Ken Barmy, browsing by the Mecanno Department in Hannigan's Truss Boutique. I ask him how things are back at his pit of despir.

"Splendid, splendid. My pay cut's been finalised."

"Is it still as bad?"

"Twelve percent."

"Oh shit. Are you OK?"

"I'm fine. Frankly, it feels like somebody's taken a huge weight of responsibility from my shoulders."

"Are you still worrying about...?"

"Not any more. It was never my problem to begin with."

Every cloud...