Tsk, tsk, Zeno…you’ve got a lot to learn about blackmail. First of all, you threaten to release the photos to the press and family and then ask for the money to prevent that from happening; you don’t get the pictures published everywhere first.
Secondly, the photos have to look something like me. OK, there is a dim resemblance in the one on the left, but I have an alibi—I was nowhere near New Zealand at the time. The one on the right is clearly very old from the costume, which is from my days in our band* back in the 1970s, before I married my wife. And she knows about the relationship. And it was just a fling. And I was hopped up on molluscan pheromones anyway, and didn’t know what I was doing. Besides, as you can see, that squid was something of a tramp.
Anyway, if anyone ought to be blackmailed, it’s that guy Steve O’Shea. Here’s a photo from the Tongarewa Massage Parlor in Wellington—look how relaxed that squid is!
*I have no musical talent; the band was called Evo Devo, and we specialized in highly complex music that was built up from randomly generated and contingent processes, shaped by constraints on their interactions and functions. Well, actually, we were more interested in the interconnections between the instruments than any sound that might come out—our concerts consisted of several hours of finding objects on the stage and stringing and tracing cables between them, culminating in the sound check. We were never very popular with the audiences, but the roadies loved us.