a weasly little man, aged 46, with straggly bits of grey wool covering a greasy bald pate, old clothes, including a faded orange tee shirt, and blue three stripe tracksuit bottoms, arrived at the door.
"Morning sir, Alphonse De Coarsey here, if I may kindly, at your service"....he said with saliva drooling down his chin " have you any way of buying one or two little combs off me? After all....