Fanny went mad in March: I dressed as a rabbit, and hopped around the village.
I spent most of the month popping Valium like they were Smarties, and drinking a pint of medicinal sherry for breakfast, just to calm my frayed nerves.
I also lovingly made some Easter eggs, mixing together Marmite, Harold Shipman's fish paste and laxative chocolate (the Easter eggs were donated to the church out of the kindness of my heart). I baked some Bovril-flavoured macaroons and created a Chocca Mocca Caramel Cake but inadvertently ran out of cocoa so just used some Oxo cubes as a substitute. Following this, I made some rock cakes, although this seriously depleted the gravel from the drive. I don't know what the church thought of this range of eclectic culinary delights as I didn't hang around. No doubt their show of thanks to my remarkable generosity will be delivered in the usual form of a terse and smarmy platitude in the village newsletter, a publication inappropriately called Hermaphrodites edited by an effeminate, shrew-faced old man called Ernest Honeyball.
In addition, I turned my hand to making a 15-foot high marzipan tower-cake with 24 carat gold-leaf decorations; it took over 8 hours of slaving away in the kitchens to produce it, and this was also donated to the church. Here is a photograph of all my hard work. What do you think?
I deliberately chose the plastic pig-with-wings cake decoration on top, as an artistic flourish!