Madame Yotta

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Madame Yotta thinks the bank is a trifle disorganised.

My Dear Sir,

I am a clairvoyant: I can see what mysteries the future holds; I can predict your love life to within one bunch of roses; I can tell you the direction to be taken by major stocks on the world markets; I can forecast the weather over both short and long periods; I can predict to within a few thousand dead Iraqis the exact amount of pain and misery some loopy fool is trying to inflict on the world; I can tell you things you would love to know; I can tell you things that you would prefer that I hadn't told you.

All of this I can do.

What I cannot do is figure out what your email wants me to do next.

Am I to put the money in a plain brown envelope and leave it by the ferns on the front verandah in the hope that Mr Ben Nzurum may happen to pop by and collect it?

Seems a little disorganised.

Please advise me what I should be doing.

Yours quizzically,

Yotta Celeste.

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