THE SAINT CLUB Christmas letter, 1990

My dear deluded drips, dupes, and idiots:

As I sit down to compose this annual insult, I am amazed again that there are so many of you who persist in renewing your subscriptions, even if it is only after being sent an offensive reminder like this. Because, after all, what do you get in return?

Only the right to wear the Saint's emblem, tastefully embroidered, on the breasts or backsides of your clothing or underwear. To buy, at deceptively tempting prices, assorted merchandise which blatantly advertises this miserable institution and your disgraceful membership of it. Oh, and perhaps a smug self-righteous feeling of hypocritical holiness because you know that 100% of the profit from your paltry payments will go to charity -at present, as for many years, the Arbour Youth Centre in Stepney, in the East End of London, which is officiously devoted to giving as many of the young as possible attractive alternatives to smashing windows and mugging obvious marks like you.

Anyone who can get a glow out of such fatuous philanthropy is evidently a sucker asking to be taken, and I am incapable of resisting that kind of request.

In the past year, we were able to hand over a nice four-figure donation to the Arbour, and I'm hoping that next year we might even double it.

Why shouldn't we, so long as you dimwits continue to fall for the bogus benefits we have to offer?

So it's once again the time for you to get out your cheque books - I mean the ones on banks where you really have an account, or at least an elastic overdraft. Or toddle down to the Post Office for one of their expensive Orders. Or we can even take cash, as long as it's the folding coupon kind. Only if you are sending gold bullion or diamonds, please use Securicor.

To all those who respond -- and no others -- I send my Saintliest good wishes for a megaChristmas and a nicely naughty New Year.