Regents Park is one of the best in London. It’s got the lot. A boating pond. Formal gardens and acres of football pitches. Even better it’s got the Zoo.

Walking along the northern edge of the park you can see a lot for free. Elephants honking, Goats on the loose on Goat mountain. All under a 20 minute walk from Oxford Circus.

The reason I know so much about this is that I live here, have done since I came over from China as a little one. I like it being so near to town, but the number of tourists can get you down a bit in the summer. Being one of the local stars can be a bit of a drag now and then. Still it’s not all bad being a Panda. Cushy life really.

Had a few problems a couple of years ago when they took my girlfriend away. Never bothered to consult me about it though, just turned up with a net and dragged her off.

Bastards.

No reason was given and more to the point no replacement was found. A panda has needs like anyone else and to be honest these weren’t being met.

I showed them though the keepers and the old governor. Stayed inside my room and refused to come out. Not good for business if the fans can’t see the main attraction.

In a bid to keep the punters happy they lowered my fence so that they could see in.

Big mistake.

Thursday night after closing, I was off. Over the fence while they thought I was having my dinner.

Once out of my pen I nipped off to the south and bunked over the perimeter only turning round to give a quick finger to the Elephants, bunch of tossers!

On the green I broke into a fast jog straight for the outer road. Once there I slowed down. Where to go, what to do. Simple really, up West for a night out.

Hitting the West End on a late summer is a great place for a bit of a knees up. Loads of Girls, plenty of booze. London must have a liver the size of Jupiter. Still it’s just what the doctor ordered after my incarceration and enforced celibacy.

Knocked back a couple of pints as a bit of a livener then moved on towards China town.

I love it down here, home from home from home really. The smell and site of all the restaurants got me hungry and the beer had made me randy. A bit of a bunk up and spot of food would suit me fine.

Just as I was thinking this I noticed this girl giving me the eye. Hello hansom she smirked.

I’m in here.

Rolled over and gave her a bit of chat.

Certainly hadn’t lost any of the old charm. Minutes latter were up in some pokey little room and she’s trying to rip my fur off. The problem was that I needed to have a bit of grub before we got down to business. No point not giving a sterling performance due to a lack of calorific energy.

Nice as ever the girls fixes me bite and then we're OFF.

Half an hour later I’m putting on my fur and about to go when she asks me for fifty quid.

Gob-smacked I asked why.

'Because I’m a prostitute'.

'A what?'

'A prostitute' she snarled. 'If you don’t know what it is then look it up in the dictionary.'

So I thumbed my way through the book.

Prostitute: A woman who sells her body for sexual services.

'So what, I’m a Panda.'

'And.'

'Well if you don’t know what it is look it up in the dictionary.' I smiled, tossing the book back at her.

She looked it up. P for Panda. Eats, shoots and leaves.

So I did.

The End

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