. A slim dark figure slipping from the corner, moving quickly behind my sweet wife, wrapping his muscular arms around her and holding a knife to her s...ft neck. "Do exactly what I tell you, man…!" the hooded figure commanded.I got frozen in my tracks, hypnotized by the dark stranger who was holding my wife across her waist with his arm. “Take it easy, man… what do you want?" I asked him softly.“You first unbutton your white wife's blouse" He replied. "What?" I mumbled in disbelief. "You heard. It was positively uncanny. Had he not been born filthy rich, he would have made a superb gossip columnist. ‘Delicately put, as usual, ‘ I said, ‘ but it’s good to hear your voice.’ ‘What’s even better, ‘ he counted, ‘ is to hear that your Marcel Marceau has finally taken a walk. ‘ ‘It’s a bit more complicated than that, ‘ I shot back. ‘Well, don’t snap at me, ‘ He said. ‘ I’m only trying to provide you with a little information.’ ‘What are you talking about?’ I heard him sigh on the other end.. He was well spoken and invited me to sit down and offered me a drink. Straight away I asked him well blurted out why wasn't my husband to be with me, he dismissed my question and proceeded to chat about other things and then invited me to take a place at the table for dinner . The conversation was at times awkward and although the table was set for 6 people only the two of us were dining. After dinner I said I must go but he said no please lets sit and chat for a while and we moved to the. I had just the right toy at hand to deliver that much-appreciated earthquake and subsequent aftershocks!Now, my question was, do I pack ‘Mister Happy’ in my suitcase? Will there even be room?OK, I was joking; he isn’t THAT big, giggling at the thought of an echo down below! I live with my husband Jack, although he is away a lot, and with my work commitments too, life can be a little lonely, hence Mister H’s valuable role in our relationship. I do love him, I mean Jack obviously, as my eyes.