“You haven't got a key,” said Stitches as Ollie took the key from Flug. “You've got a flap remember? You have a bit of a problem with doors.”
“Oh yeah…Wot doors?”
“Do you mean what are doors, or do you mean what doors do you have trouble with?
“Umm. Me mean…”
“Yes,” said Stitches encouragingly, hoping for an answer before New Year's Day. 2051.
“Wot doors?” said Flug.
“Never mind all that rubbish,” said Ollie, impatiently. “Flug, point the torch at the knob will you.”
(If I could, I'd like to mention a small item at this juncture. I'm sure that you, dear reader, will be pleased to note that the author, me, has chosen to disregard the blatantly obvious, and quite frankly childish, 'willie' joke that could easily have been inserted into the tale at this point. Flug, as you would expect
