'Ah, a Celtic Vibeiste.'

'Piglet?'

'Hmm?'

'How did Rabbit's book launch go?'

'Launch?'

'Last Thursday…for National What Was That Thing We Can Forget About Again Day?'

'Ah…the poetry doings.'

'You'd forgotten, too, hadn't you?'

'I so had.  See how I dropped that in there?'

'I so did.  So how did his launch go?'

'Sooo…great success, Tigger said.  Rabbit--'

'--Brer Baudelaire--'

'--sorry, je suis desultory, M. Baudelaire was reading with a Celtic vibeiste.'

'What?'

'Her words channel the valencies of all things Hibernian, Tigger's proportional representative said.'

'Tiffany Breathless?'

'That's the pied-a-terre occupant.'

'Who is this vibeiste?'

'Meabh Na Bandwagonagh.'

'Hibernian herself?'

'Sooo, apparently her grandad was a barman on the Isle of Man ferry.'

'Ah.'

'For a good three months.'

'And Rabbit read what?'

'From his collection.  His slim vacuum.'

'I thought he'd only written that poem about having a leaf in his gob.  How did he--'

'--he got help from Tigger's PR and her PR.'

'She's got one?'

'Viola de Gapyear.'

'So what's it called, his slim vacuum?'

'Deep In My Heart, Where No-one Can See, I'm Oppressed But Photogenic.'

'Gosh, that's a real mouthful.'

'Oddly enough, what you just said is a line from another poem of his...theirs.'

'About what?'

'I didn't presume to ask.'