Who will rid me of this turbulent priestess?

Madame Fiendish and her devil eyes

You know me, I expect.

I'm no stranger to hard work.

I've often stopped to admire it.

I've even shouted words of encouragement.

But just lately something mighty weird has been going on.

You, my loyal readership, will know that the BossLady-Who-Must-Be-Obeyed-For-Fear-Of-Wrathful-Retribution-And-Pins-Stuffed-Up-Dolls-Type-Performance-Enhancing-Voodoo-ChicaneryTM had moved on to higher things amidst much cheering in the environs de moi truly.

And yet....

And yet it seems since that splendid day of great joy and singing in the streets, I have been on the recieving end of her instructions and demands on a more or less hourly basis.

What eerie powers does she possess that she can jerk me around hither and thither without so much as a by-your-leave? Is it the strange wine-coloured waters she force-drinks me? Or perhaps it is the Dark Arts she picked up on her mysterious 'yogic retreat' at the exclusive Star-Jumps Al Fresco resort?

Someone even suggested I put a bounty on her head, but she'd only eat it.

I can only hope this torment ends soon.

Indeed, maybe it would be better all round if she just simply came back to a proper job and lorded it over us poor minions as she used to.