Part IV My attempt to visit the heart of the Posh Spice Empire and suss out their intentions met with a brick wall. However, in a caff just round the corner from their headquarters, I met somebody who claimed to be 'close to the throne' --- "Call me 'the Butler'," he said with a sly wink. Let me stress that it was impossible for me to verify his claim to familiarity with the Powers-that-be, but this is what he told me: "You've caused us a lot of sleepless nights --- the loss of revenue is awesome, our shares have plummeted. Cripes, the editorial boards of New Musical Express and Hello! Magazine have resigned en masse over this business --- and you've even managed to put Him off his game, you must have noticed. On the other hand, we don't want to give you any more free publicity by suing you, know what I mean? Er, perhaps we can come to some arrangement?" It was time to make a hasty exit. End. Postscript: (see Part I) it turns out that Christine Stokes talks like a normal human being when awa frae a' that bloomin heather.