Oh dearie, dearie. Down in the cellar, so dreary. Why won't you come out to see me? When you were here, we made them scream, didn't we? Come back to visit and I'll give you another present, carved and shiny. You aren't much in the way of proper conversation, mind you, but I do love to watch you work. Come back and I'll tell you stories, such stories.
Your dear Granny