SAINT CLUB Christmas Letter 1986

My most treasured tax fiddlers, VAT dodgers, and assorted wide persons:

All of us now know about inflation, and that isn't in the sense of keeping up the pressure in your Dunlops. I am referring to the gruesome fact that everything keeps costing a bit more all the time.

Except, until now, the cost of what you can get from the Saint Club.

Alas, we finally have to put those carefree days behind us. As we re-order, and find that we have to pay more for this or that, we are going to have to raise our charges. After all, we are only in business to make a profit, even if we recklessly donate all of it to the Arbour Youth Centre, whose expenses are not going down either.

Overleaf you will find the bad news of the revisions which the Hon. Sec. finds he has to make in his price list.

There is one increase for which I am solely responsible, and that is the hike in the price of those autographed mug shots of myself with which an inexplicable number of idiots persist in wanting to deface their walls, desks, whatnots, and the pages of otherwise inoffensive albums. Actually these do not cost the Club a penny, since I supply them without charge, and regard it as my personal donation. However, since the last batch is running out, and I find that the next order is going to cost me more, I decided that the Club ought to benefit more from the sale of them. Especially since they appear to have an open-market value out of all proportion to their ornamental beauty. One not-so-subtle operator (not a Member) recently had the gall to ask me to send him four -- and didn't even enclose a stamp.

Another factor which makes these autographed mug shots a bargain even at the inflated price of £1 is that as my venerable years mount up (and how they mount!) I am becoming afflicted with an increasing stiffness in my fingers. Already, I'm afraid, it is more and more laborious for me to produce a decent signature. Therefore the time must inevitably come when fresh autographs will no longer be available. The wise investors who have the last vintage may find themselves holding collectors' treasures. Hurry while stocks and my fingers last!

With which I leave you to count your presents, on which I hope you will show a handsome profit, and may all your seasonal gorging be gorgeous.