I come from a tribe of hunch-backed lab athithtanth with thpeech impedimenth; every thingle male ith named Igor, while the femaleth are all named Igorina. We are accomplithed in thurgery and tranthplantation of body parth and are valued in rural areath where accidenth with axtheth happen frequently. We traditionally path on parth of our body to our family memberth when we die, giving a thlightly unuthual meaning to "He hath hith grandfather'th handth".

The Igors have now branched out into working in thity-stateth ath medicth and general lackeyth for thcientiths, with the We R Igors (A Thpare Hand Where Needed) agenthy renting uth out. Our motht notitheable behavioral trait, apart from always lithping and limping even if we do not actually have the requithite impedimenth, is an uncanny ability to appear thilently right behind thomeone mere thecondth after being called for, and opening doorth to vithitorth in a thimilarly thshort interval after they knock. When questioned about either of these traits, our usual response is "It'th a knack".

And oh yeth, I am tho fed up of those lathy vampirth