Informações:
Synopsis
Once upon a time, when the world was young, I was in a gorgeous art deco hotel in Lytham Saint Anne's. At the time, I was the editor of a particularly dodgy magazine called Quest. The magazine wasn't particularly dodgy, but the bloke who published it was the worst shyster of any of the numerous shysters for whom I have worked over the years. He left a trail of bankrupt companies and unpaid debts wherever he went, and one of the major reasons I was in the northwest of England that weekend was to try and screw a couple of grand out of him (partially what he owed me, and partly just because I could). It has always been my experience in life, that the only way that one can deal effectively with shysters is to out-shyster them, and so when I had been in Las Vegas a few weeks before, as one of the guests at a monumentally uninteresting UFO conference, I racked up my expenses to an insane degree. But I digress. The other reason that I was in Lancashire that weekend was that I was a guest speaker at a conference pu
