Fear Ze Monstair

In what I can only assume is a case of my subconscious trying to make a point, I seem to have turned into a comedy mutant of the kind beloved by the BBC Effects Workshop, circa series 2 of Blake's Seven. I don't know if it's an after-effect of sunburn, a new symptom of the sinus pain I've had for a few days, or a deadly spaceborne plague that will devastate all humanity. Symptoms include swollen inner eyelids, very tender temples, and constant minor nosebleed. Ewwww.

Yes, it is possible that someone broke in and beat me up in my sleep. Amnesty for the culprit, especially if you took 'before' and 'after' photos.

Naturally, it was in this state that I encountered and interacted with my neighbour this evening. To give him his due, he hardly flinched.

Apparently the Evil Feudal Overlords who are trying to extort money from me are unknown to the Inland Revenue, even for PAYE purposes. Surely this is illegal? (And isn't it odd that they still haven't replied to my polite letter asking which leg they intend to stand on clause of the lease I'm breaking?)

As a Comedy Villain, I feel obliged to cackle evilly as I plot their downfall.