showing question #317
question from Matt & Luke Goss
Philip Olivier? Say you aint him! To my minds eye you are the bastard lovechild of Mr Burns and Quentin Wilson, sat upon a goldy throne fashioned from bakers skulls and out of date banger racing and opera programs. Say this is the case, or I will skim the milk way past semi!
What proof would my denial be? My words alone could never convince you of my Olivier-ness or otherwise. You could trust your instinct, but that’s no better than praying for divine guidance in what you may hilariously call a god.
What would you say to myself and someone else, in the same room, each claiming that the other is the mysterious Philip Olivier? Would that appease your endless sceptical nature? Well, it should not! For we could be lying and in, as the man says, cahoots.
The only way this argument will ever end is if you have some DNA evidence that you believe to be part of the true Olivier; which is like the true cross, only more wooden.