by Lord Edmund Bryll, inventor of Brylcreem

Yes, now, where was I? Oh right, yes, of course. You see, to the extent that, indeed, my remarks could be misconstrued by the cretinous as having vaguely slanderous overtones, one must remember that the Monseigneur most certainly brought it upon himself, and my words in no way deviated from the truth of the matter. If the Monseigneur wishes to challenge me upon any of my statements, particularly the one regarding his particular fondness for nasal inhalation of crystalline derivative of the coca leaf from the hocks of slatternly practitioners of the prostitutive arts, said practitioners not exclusively restricted to one particular gender, then I certainly welcome with open arms to opportunity to restate my largely speculative musings publicly.

All of which leads me, quite naturally, and I’m sure you’ll agree without hesitation, to the topic of synthetic diamonds. If you are not familiar with the controversy of which I speak, suffice to say that several enterprising gentlemen, in what amounts to a near-perverse misapplication of entrepreneurial spirit, have devised ways to create, not to say “grow”, mineral crystals of such quality as to be nearly indistinguishable to the real, proper diamonds and their far superior traditional mining methodology of violently forcing poor people to extract them from the ground whilst laying waste to the natural surroundings in a devastating, not to say delightful, fashion, rendering the landscape altogether uninhabitable for generations, thus discouraging the aforementioned poor people from rising above their station. Right, well, hmm.

Now, as regards these “diamonds”, and here I direct your attention to the punctation marks I have dutifully placed around the word to signify my contempt for the application of the name in this particular context, owing to the illegitimate nature of the crystals referred to herein, it must be said that my dear friends at DeBeers are understandably appalled at the rise of imposter stones, the existence of which threaten DeBeers’s's rightful status as the sole arbiter of the altogether inflated market value for what is, in all honesty, an abundant and not particularly uncommon type of pressurized carbon. As one DeBeers executive once told me in a moment of great candor, not to say drunken tongue-loosening, “Lord Bryll, we are sitting on a stockpile of diamonds so large we could wipe our arses with diamond-studded toilet paper and it wouldn’t affect the real supply.”

What is to be done about the usurpers, I hear you ask? Well, it must be said that, having as I do a large financial position in DeBeers, though said information is strictly off the record, you understand, I naturally possess a great deal of interest in the matter. Were I to bring to bear my vast wealth of experience in managing such matters for the East India Company, I would without hesitation suggest simply buying the loyalty of the locals with banana wine and paying local thugs to dispatch the recalcitrant through whatever civilized means that are de rigeur in the region, typically involving machetes. Thus, the threat can be swiftly and efficiently put down, securing DeBeers’s's’s position atop the artificial market, and providing many less fortunate members of the destitute wilderness a much needed source of banana wine, solidifying our humanitarian credentials whilst asserting authority and control with an iron, not to say studded and spiked, fist.

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