As part of my rehabilitation I have been asked to form connections with the ordinary, hum-drum working peoples on my estates.
Although it was those very sort, 12 of them in fact, who deprived me of my liberty, I hold no grudges or malice.
Moghul is quite prepared to break bread at the Silver Star or enjoy a pint at the Tut and Shive with even the most grubby commoner. Moghul forgives and forgets.
It has been strange adjusting to life after prison, a part of me yearns for my cosy cell and finds sleeping in the old four-poster quite uncomfortable.
Still, is is good to hold a shotgun again, even if I keep having to tell myself that the modern, socialist dictatorship that we endure these days prohibits the shooting of poachers, scroungers and the undeserving infirm.
If you would like to correspond with me, I have set up an email account at wicked@champnews.com. I will especially happy to hear gossip and wicked whispers of what people are up to, especially those guilty of hypocrisy, political humbug or shenanigans.
The more petty the observation, the more I shall delight. Don't bother telling me about the druglord or murderer, I want to know about the milkman who wears women's clothes or the councillor with an untidy garden.
