As St Valentine towed a sulky Cupid away from the bar, he explained what he he had seen. One person who was certain he and Cupid weren't even real, and a man who thought he was unhelpful! Him - the hero of love, Valentinius Sanctus, patron saint of lovers, BFF to those who wished to wed! He'd been martyred for these people, he complained, sounding er, martyred. He'd had his head chopped off for the ungrateful little apes! Whatever happened to respect, to omnia vincit amor, and all that? I mean, what did they want from him - blood?

'I wouldn't mind' mumbled Cupid. 'Still had half a Peroni left'.