I thought It would be a bit of a larf to have a never ending story......

I was startled from my bed, me with a thundering hangover, the saggy titted old hag lying next to me had let out a bellowing fart to the degree of disgust that was equal to the degree of pain that required me to lie back down, a decision had to be made, I was in no fit state to make it.....

... as far as the bathroom and my choices of where to aim, were somewhat limited. That was until, I spotted a familiar glint from the corner of my eye.
Reaching carefully over, I...

...chopped a couple of lines to get me through the next inevitable bout of frantic love-making.

Luckily I had remembered to bring....

three brown paper bags, one to put over her head, one to put over my head, in case her bag 'blew off' and one to put over......

... the dog. It's not his fault he's only get three legs and can't run away quick enough when the saggers come out.
But as I tried to place it over his head, there was a...

knock at the door & the dog bolted downstairs the best it can on it's 3 legs, practically tumbling down just to have a growl at whoever it was. I knew it would be the postman as the post box had been sealed to stop scallies throwing fireworks through. He would have the results from the VD clinic and...

... that bag headed bison in my bed had been the cause of it...... her snoring amplified by the crisp brown paper, she farts, she snores, she farts she snores.... arrrrrrrgh, my head hurts, my cock hurts and she's going to.....

*interlude notice*


@bag headed bison

hopefully suffocate in her own cloud of toxic fumes.

Flinging on a vest to cover my modesty, I staggered tortuously down the stairs, with the speed & grace of an expectant hippopotamus.

Spurred forward by Tripod's eager yaps, each if which produced a flash of intense light, accompanied by a dart of searing pain through my pulsating skull, my grip on the handrail to prevent plummeting was such that a section of it came away, and was still clutched in my moist, hirsute fist as the door creaked open to reveal...

2 guys dressed like it was 1960 somewhere in the Balkans. 'We're here to tell you about the word of the Lord from this great book' said the taller of the two, his eyes bulging through his thick set spectacles which slid down his bulbous nose when he spoke. 'WHAT?' I fumed. 'You've not got my VD test results then?' I snarled, glowering at the other one as he awkwardly shuffled through a nicotine stained bible while the sun bounced off his balding head right into my eyes. 'You've got some white powder in your moustache' came a voice that seemed to be coming from the bright birth of the actual fucking universe. Maybe this was heaven; maybe these were disciples of the Lord come to test me or take me away. Maybe it was the drugs kicking in. Maybe...

bludgeoning them to death with a length of handrail was an over-reaction, but...

fuck it, it felt good. I felt the coke coursing through my body and mind and I felt the power of God as I stoved the tall cunts head in, while his ungodly bald pal scuttled away leaving loose pages of his bible twirling to the ground slowly like embers. The tall cunt's glasses lay wrecked next to his badly bleeding head, and I felt a little awkward that I hadn't quite sent him all the way to meet his pal The Maker. So I...

rummaged through his pockets, extracting a disappointingly light wallet and a pack of Wrigley's, before...

...dragging him face down into the gutter where I kerb kicked his head a few times, the rain will hopefully finish him off, and wash his drool into the sewer where it belongs, Ok I felt pretty good now, so it was time to....

examine the contents of the wallet.

A receipt for a truss, an I.O.U. for 73p, a ragged £5 note, and... great jumping Jesosaphat!!! What the...???

Little had I known on waking that morning, that I would innocently stumble on something that could make me rich, endanger my life and potentially change the world as we know it forever!

Enveloped in a confusion, somewhere between elation and terror, I puzzled over why a seemingly humble (if irritating) bible basher would be wandering the streets with this in his pocket. "F* me! WTF! F*ing hell!", I uttered out loud. But before any further profound observations could be formulated, the collection of crags, spider veins and eyebrows that was the postman's faced loomed up my driveway.

Feigning casual joviality, I waved to him. "Ah, good morning to you, Mary", I called as he gingerly made his way up the path. His discomfort at walking, as though there was sandpaper in his boxers, did not escape my eagle eye.

"So?"...

I held out my hand and beckoned my letter by raising and lowering the fingers in that kind of 'give me my letter and fuck off kind of way'.
'Mary' had obviously taken enough notice of my brown envelope to note and recognise the return address, as he handed me my letter he let out a short but meaningful snigger. As he turned on his heels..

Behind me was a rustling.a twang, whistle, thud,thud. The post man slumped, two arrows protruded from his chest.
Gnömes!
It leapt at me and snatched the wallet, climbing me like a monkey and latching onto my ear with his teeth.
Gnömes are more vicious than their cousins the common, or garden gnome, with a taste for blood.
I shook my fist as the gnöme escaped. Sirens blare in the distance.

Time to think clearly now, I thought about the fragments of handrail in the bible bashers head, the other one the 'little cunt' had got away, my ear was bleeding, had it really been Gnömes?
The postman was lying on my driveway, and I holding my letter. I looked up at the bedroom window to see the bison had awoken and removed her bag.
The walls were creeping in, I needed to act and act fast, I rushed upstairs shouting quick honey there's been an accident....

but she was on all fours pouting that dirty smile with a bit of coke flaking from her tash. Another quick line for me then I'll rattle the back out of her anyway, then I'll worry about the little accident. Bitch! She's tooted the last of the wallop! I scratch about for a more but it's gone. I need more. Fucking bitch.
I think about the handrail....

...should I shove it up her arse?
Is it time to start a new chapter? I looked in the wardrobe, one clean and pressed tan suit, shirt, waistcoat, tie, snakeskin boots, hmmm perhaps the bison was correct, she commented when I bought those boots ''snakeskin boots do make people think about the integrity of the wearer', ok so I look in the mirror, my hairs a mess, I look like Mick Jagger on a bad day.... Ok what do I need, passport, toothbrush, wallet, unopened letter from VD clinic, piece of handrail (well used)....