Stan was reading the paper at 9 pm when. surprisingly, the front door bell rang.Emile,his delightful tomcat who was asleep,nearly jumped out of his furry skin.Stan opened the front door cautiously.
“Goodnight,sir.” remarked the handsome man standing there.
“Goodnight?”Said Stan confusedly,”Bur I’ve never seen you before.Are you the sandman who comes to put children to sleep?”
“Good evening,sir.” the man continued,”I’m so sorry my English is so poor.I am , still studying David McChrystal’s Cambridge Encyclopedia of the English Language and I’m still a trifle mystified.”
“What do you want?”Stan asked him.”What do I want?I want to study philosophy,write a novel and make some friends”
“No,no.” said Stan”I mean,why are you here?”
“A good question,why are we here?Do we have a mission in life or are we here as a result of mere chance and happenstance or even serendipity?”
“I mean,why are you here ringing my doorbell at this time of the night?”
“Shouldn’t that be evening,sir?” The stranger enquired sardonically yet politely.
“Look.are you after something?”
“Well,I’m after a  higher degree at college though so far I’ve not managed to  write a thesis yet.”
“Well,faint minds never win  higher degrees!”Stan advised him cuttingly
“What’s happening,”called Mary from her study where she was reading a critique of Principia Mathematica for the seventh time.
“God only knows!” said Stan.
Mary came to the front door.She wore a green silk blouse with a jade necklace, a pair of smart jeans from Per Una and some pink trainers with yellow laces.On her face she wore Lancome of Paris light beige foundation,strawberry pink lipstick and purple mascara from Clinique.Her perfume was by Beyonce.Buy all this with one click on the link below.It’s only £7,000.
“Goodnight,madam” said the stranger.
“I think that’s  rude,” said Mary.”If you’ve never met someone before it’s inappropriate to say goodnight.”
“Well,we aren’t in bed,” he replied laboriously with his rare accent..
“What  has that got to do with it?”
“Inappropriate is often used to refer to sexual behaviour.”
“Well,for crying out loud,who are you?” she whispered politely.
“I’m the new curate!””I’m Polish.”
“Well,I’m sorry I don’t know a single word of it.would you like to speak in Latin?”
“Ite,missa est!”The curate exclaimed.
“Uno reductio ad absurdum”Stan muttered.
“That’s Italian,UNO” cried Mary.
“Well,it’s pretty similar.”
“Well,I must go,”said the curate anxiously.
“You’ve not been yet so how can you go?”
“I don’t know,sir.Good evening,good afternoon,good morning.”the red face man screamed as he ran hurriedly down the garden path.
“Are we Catholics now?”Mary asked Stan.
“Oh,I can’t remember,” he said.”Do we go to church?”
“Well,we may be non-practising,I suppose.”
“Perhaps we’d better start practising,” he murmured affectionately.
“Oh,if you insist,” she replied in an unwifely roguish tone.
“That’s right,blame it all on the man.In my experience it’s you who is keener than me.”
“What are you talking about?”she enquired seductively yet courteously.
Suddenly the door bell rang.It was the curate.
“Goodnight” he called.”goodnight”
“Goodnight,” they responded in their reserved yet rude English fashion.
“Mioaw” cried Emile,”Mioaw,miaow,