I'll xerox some more application forms for our new recruits.

Dude, do you want in?

It's ever so much fun. Each full moon we go to our desert hide-away, smear our bodies in ash and dance naked around a fire, chanting our secret mafia incantations.

Then we make a sacrifice to our pagan God of internet censorship, kewtell (usually something soft and furry like a kitten, puppy or, in winter, a fur seal pup) before having a cup of tea and a shortbread finger. Then we discuss the shipping news.