2004-12-08 - 9:08 a.m.

Here at the Kickasso Institute for Wretched Children, we�re constantly pestered along the following lines: �I have a question. For the past nine years, I have been raising a feral child as my own. I am now ready to introduce them to polite society, and I wondered if there were any particular words of advice you might have.� Pondering the idea for a moment, our first thoughts are: That�s not a question, it�s a statement of fact. Please get away from us, you ignorant, clodhopping embarrassment to humanity.

The point stands, though, and there are several issues to bear in mind when instructing a salivating, wild-eyed troglodyte at the formal dinner table.

Proper seat at table
Sit the child erect, neither lounging back nor slouching forwards, with the waist line five inches from the table edge. It is not polite to rest elbows on the table, nor to jump up there on all fours, snarling uncontrollably, thick saliva dripping from your contorted jaws onto the good oyster forks.

Use of napkin
This must be spread across the child�s lap or chest. None but the lay vulgarian tucks the napkin into their waistcoat. Do not noisily eat the napkin like flesh ripped from the carcass of a goat.

Knife and fork
It is evidence of careless training in table manners to mash food in between the prongs of the fork, or to stare at the shiny silver objects as if caught in headlights before turning them on yourself, wrenching out mounds of hairy skin in a frenzy of self-sacrificial confusion.

Use of the spoon
To dip up a spoonful of soup and blow upon it, in order to reduce its temperature, is a habit that should be confined to one�s nursery days. You were happy then, weren�t you? Naked in the forest, moonlight on your furry back as you suckled at your mother�s teat with the rest of the grunting litter. Drink long and deep on the warming liquid, my long-haired savage man-cub, but be sure to dip the spoon with an outward motion.

Accidents at the table
Mishaps will overtake even the best regulated diner. An ill-starred individual may easily overturn a full water glass, or find themselves baying at the moon with all the ferocity of a berserk wolverine, the scent of fresh carrion in their flaring nostrils, an appetite that can only be satiated by the bloody rewards of a carnivorous orgy, the strips of butchered prey trailing down their chins as they give in to their barbarous urges. A quick, quiet apology can be made, followed a few days later, perhaps, by a contrite little note.

Social interaction at table
Cultivate the fine and necessary art of being a good listener. Also appropriate the proper forms of address; for example to an Archbishop: �I�m sorry that our companion was temporarily taken over by the debauched spirit of Pan, leaped at you with fiery eyes bulging and carnally ravaged your lower vestments like a crazed, rutting beast of the field on heat, your Grace.�

Never forget that good table manners are an instinctive part of the well-bred personality, and given time and a well-directed electric prod, your feral child will learn conduct and poise. For now, though, learn to accept their threatening, brutish ways. Come, lithe, pagan demi-beast, and feast with feverish relish on the raw sweetmeats, quivering mandibles stained with slaughter, your untamed claws a blur of wanton savagery. Just remember that, where bon-bons are offered as an amuse-bouche, it is correct to pick them up with their paper casings intact.