I've got this surname, you see. I don't like to type it here, lest the Australian Secret Intelligence Service plugs the old name into Google and comes up with an incriminating account of my armpits. Let's just say, though, that this surname has oft been coupled with "Davidson" to surprisingly lucrative effect.
So, here we are. Harlot Heaven. Disappointing, to say the least. There I was, thinking that the former things would have passed away, and still I'm wearing the same enormous hat that I've worn almost every day for the past two years.
Look closely, and you'll observe the disconcerting sight of an establishment two doors down called "Inferno". That's a coincidence almost as exciting as Northcote Coles' juxtaposition of Heinz Baked Beans and a rack of novelty whoopee cushions.