Ullo, Bosco my dere bruvver. It seems dat de Lord provided a mirackulous cure, and your concusion is gettin better. You will soon be back to normal behaviuor, i.e. beetin up anyone who mihgt be a Cathlic.
De storry of how God wruoght a mirackle is very good, and when de Book of Bosco (written by Eccles) is added to de Bibble, dis will be one of de bits dat de folks in church will reely stay awake for. What hapenned was dat Prince Willaim and Katte was doin a royal tour near us, and Bosco decided to go and tell dem dat dey wasnt saved. Dis we may reggard as de martydrom of Bosco, as when he rushed up to dem brandishin a Bibble he was immediately atacked by de Army, de FBI, de LA police, de boy scuots, de girl giudes and de mothers-and-toddlers group. Dey beet him voilently and he got a blow on de head which cured his concusion (actaully, Bosco is embarassed as it was one of de toddlers who hit him wiv her dolly).
When Bosco was cured we decidded to go to de Calumny Chappel for a service of thanksgivin, and we even persauded Anti Moly to come along, sayin dat we'd buy some gin on de way so dat she had somethin to occupy her mind durin de Pastor's homilly.
But it turned out badly: we was drivin Anti Moly to church, and we stopped at de trafic lihgts outside a Cathlic Church. De priest came out and saw de wizzened figure of my Great-Ant fast aslepe in de car, and said "Oh Bosco, dat is very kind of you to bring us de bonnes of an old lady. Is dat de relicks of a saint? I gonna kiss em." He oppened de car door and gave my anti a big KISS on de lips, but she hit him wiv a gin bottle and said "Traddy Cathlics I hates em all!" Well dats only fair, nobody likes bein mistakken for a relick. So we decidded to go home again.
Well, dats all for now. Bosco is still behavin a little strangley to my expert eye. He wants me to call him Nebbuchadnozzer and he is gonna sleep in de garden and eat grass. Maybe de concusion aint all gone.
I gotta pitcher of Bosco relaxin in de garden.