The trenchant and beguiling masterpiece you are about to enjoy has three shameful British prejudices to overcome. The first is our sturdy belief that the Germans, while objects of ripe mirth in themselves, are incapable of being funny. The second is our shockingly tolerant notion that a collection of badly drawn cartoons can be just as amusing as a book of well-drawn ones. And the third is our incomprehensible addiction to books about cats. The British have always asserted that the German sense of humour is about as real as the Swiss Navy (though personally I've always assumed that the prudent Swiss kept a small flotilla tucked away somewhere in the Mediterranean, just in case). This fairly harmless contention can be comforting, even necessary - look, they may have all the Deutschmarks and most of the BMWs but we're the ones with the sense of humour; yet it's getting harder and harder to defend.