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In this sad week for showbiz, Frank announces the launch of an exciting new venture…

Though it is unseemly to rejoice at someone’s death, I must admit that I beamed with glee when I heard the news that Sir Jimmy Savile had shuffled off this mortal coil. For shuffling off alongside him were the various legal and contractual entanglements which have prevented me from launching one of my pet projects. For years, the late Sir Jimmy threatened to break my arms, or worse, if ever I tried to bring my exciting and original conception into being. Now, all obstacles swept aside in a twinkling, I am able at last to announce that soon, soon, the world will gasp at “Frank’ll Fix It”.

I have already bought a wardrobe’s worth of garish tracksuits, much chunky jewellery, and several thousand cigars. I have dyed my hair platinum. Yesterday I went on a sponsored run, haring across the fields and raising dozens of pence for charity. I am ready to fix it!

But what, you ask, will I fix? Well, just as Sir Jimmy made dreams come true for the nation’s tinies, I shall make dreams come true for the no less important group of the nation’s Dabbler readers. Well do I know that so many of you lie awake at night, tossing and turning, chewing your pillows, hoping against hope that one day you will make a personal appearance in Key’s Cupboard, or perhaps in a Hooting Yard story. And by the way, do not think that I have confused the process of dreaming, when you are asleep, with tossing and turning and chewing your pillow, when you are sleepless. The beauty of “Frank’ll Fix It” is that it will make the wishes and desires of both states, of dreamy sleep and anguished sleeplessness, come true. Could Sir Jimmy have made the same claim, even in his pomp? Eh?

So how does it work? Well, all you need to do is to send me a letter along the lines of this illustrative example:

Dear Frank, Please fix it for me to appear in one of your stories where, just as I am about to topple into the Bottomless Viper-Pit Of Gaar, I am rescued by the heroic Fascist tot Tiny Enid. Yours sincerely, [your full name here]

I will then write a story in which you are named, over and over again, in bold type, and in which you are about to topple into the Bottomless Viper-Pit Of Gaar when you are rescued by the heroic tot Tiny Enid. Hand-typed on standard unruled A4 paper, the resulting story will be something for you to treasure and to pass on to your children and to your children’s children, yea unto every generation. At just £1,000 a pop, what better way to achieve fictional immortality?

In two weeks’ time, Frank Key will be giving a rare public performance in London. Book your tickets for An Evening Of Lopsided Prose And Lugubrious Music on Friday 18 November here.

Members of the League of Dabblers (join here) go free – to request your ticket email editorial@thedabbler.co.uk and join in the fun!