ŷ������

- What’s all this, officer?

- Anatol Stiller, I am arresting you for tax evasion, unpaid parking tickets, voting ironically and travelling with a fake passport.

- Officer this is a big mistake �� I am not this guy Stiller, my name is Paul Bryant, look, just like it says there.

- But sir, your passport is sooo fake. It says “Umited Kingdom of Great Britian�� on the front �� see?

- Damn that rogue! Well, anyway, I’m not Stiller.

***

- Good morning, I am your court appointed defence attorney, Mr er Bryant.

- Ah great, let me tell you a lot of boring stories about my life in Spain, Mexico and Nottingham which will prove that I am not this Stiller guy.

- Oh, must you?

***

- Hello Stiller.

- Hello Miss …er, Mrs?

- Come on, stop playing dumb, it’s me, your wife.

- Wife?

- Yes, your neurotic quarter-Hungarian teensy ballerina with the tuberculosis, the plucked eyebrows and the wild red hair. That wife.

- For some reason I can’t quite place you. That must be because I never met you before because I am not the person you and everyone else seems to think.

- Oh don’t give me that.

- Look, I can prove it �� remember I had a wart here on my neck? Well, I don’t have one any more. See?

- Yes, I can see you have had it removed. Not a very professional job either. But the fact that you knew you used to have a wart on your neck is rather a giveaway, mon cher Stiller.

- Damn, you are too quick for me.

***

- Good morning, I am the public prosecutor. I will prove to the world you are Stiller and the fact that you had an affair with my wife and I had an affair with your wife is immaterial.

- Not only am I not Stiller, who is to say who I am or anyone else, hmm? Never mind me, who are you?

- Hem hem, don’t play the slippery eel with me, Herr Stiller.

- But I am not Stiller, who was a sculptor. Here, give me some clay. I won’t be able to do a thing with it. But if you give me a moment I will write you a review of this rather dubious, prolix and rather aggravating novel I just finished called I’m Not Stiller by Max Frisch. By the way, I’m not Max Frisch either.

- And what would that prove, dear sir?

- It would prove that I am Paul Bryant, ŷ������ reviewer!

- But Herr Stiller, that would not prove anything, anyone can write a review of a novel, you know. I could do it myself.

- Ah, you think you could, but just try, cher public prosecutor.

- All right, I will try��. One moment�� I happen to have read I’m Not Stiller myself, so wait��. Here, what about this :

- What’s all this, officer?

- Anatol Stiller, I am arresting you for tax evasion, unpaid parking tickets, voting ironically and travelling with a fake passport.

- Officer this is a big mistake �� I am not this guy Stiller, my name is Paul Bryant, look, just like it says there.

- What? That’s��. an accurate version of exactly what I had in mind��. This is disturbing. Perhaps��. Perhaps YOU are Paul Bryant.

- Ha ha, guess what �� I AM! So what would that make you then?

- All right, you got me. It’s a fair cop.