When we were in Borneo climbing Mount Kinabalu, I sharply recall the duchess complaining that she'd been taught that vodka was all but odourless, which was plain fact up to a point, but when you were good and saturated in the stuff the truth was you couldn't help but reek potently and to the notice of all in range. You could argue that the three things the duchess loved most were cats, Japanese 'pinku' movies, and bottomless martinis, gin or vodka-based (per the daily vicissitudes of mood and fancy). When the great cocksman Koshimi of Azerbaijan lay just that one brief night with the duchess it is said that, as he looked down upon her on the bed he saw a look of challenge and reprisal so severe and scorching that he does not wish to ever summon it to mind again, may God and the angels stand proud and erect in their duck boots humming George Gershwin. When his friend Bruno Sanntario asks him what happened after satisfactory consummation of the copulation and discomfiting brinksmanship, Koshimi of Azerbaijan is quoted as saying: "The duchess ate graham crackers."
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