Mr McPoo

Mr McPoo came down from the hills with a beard, a tam, and an opinion about roughage, and none of the three has changed since. He reads every pooem as though you have just arrived at his inn out of the weather and he is pouring you something — which, in a sense, he is.

He has a laugh you can hear through two walls and a bathroom door, and he uses it at exactly the right moment, which is usually the wrong one. Ask him about fibre and cancel your afternoon. He is the company’s warmest voice and the only one who has ever been asked to keep it down.

The fee, in his words“Och, ye’ve had yer free sample. The rest o’ the tale costs a wee coin.”