5th March, 1989
Mary closed her napkin. She wondered how she managed to get into this predicament, having only been wandering through the most shallow of the caves. She had hoped all trace had disappeared of the tomato sauce she had splattered down her father's epistemological quandary.
Relaxing in a chair in a distant cottage, Robert mused over the days events, especially Patrick's death. He flinched at the memory, the sound of something swishing through the air, the smell of almonds and machine oil, a sudden fart issuing forth from Helga, the rather enormous swedish masseuse. Then something incredulous happened! Robert saw a policeman racing towards him. Defiantly, he pulled the green box from his vest, and turned the universe off.
At some indeterminate time earlier, Robert was seen dragging Patrick's body across a field sparsely covered in elderberries. Vengeance! Suddenly, Helga, (who was also an elderberry picker) realised she had her chance. She quietly placed her basket on the ground, raised her arm up to the time switch, went back ten years in time, found her own father, and together they made love. In turn, she gave birth to herself, and became the first temporally intertwined mother/daughter singularity. The sheer impossibility of this paradox made it all the more important that she escape the current predicament, and report what had happened as an accident. ``But no,'' she thought, ``that's what they'll be expecting!''. So Helga opened a bank account in the high street bank, and proceeded to give Patrick a decent burial.
However, a large gnome caught her cold that she had had for a week. She caught this from Robert some ten years earlier, but only recently had she noticed. Helga thought back to those days in the forests north of the mountains. Each day she had spent strangling starlings and feeding her only Arcturian Mega-dodo to her tiger. Her other activities had included playing chess in the shower, racing bricks, and stressing syllabic sylabs.
Mostly her bricks floated sedately through the air in much the same way as very large lumps of lead. By comparison, the only way to go faster involved strange transitions of the decay products of the anti-omega particles in the super improbability drive installed at the rear of the Starbuster-class lunar module.
Unfortunately, Helga's appetite got the better of her, and she took hold of her legs and ate herself. Stuart laughed! By the miracle of modern surgery, Helga's legs were grafted back on. Unfortunately, as these things are rather difficult to perform using current technology, the operation was performed ten years later (it's amazing what they can do these days).
Immediately, Helga was able to go into battle again, and just in the instant it took for her to don her battle gear a passing trans-siberian vapour ray vapourised her, remarkably but not unpredictably into vapour, which was now on its way to Alpha Centauri , with no way back.
In her later years, Helga went on to own her own legs, and raise a trig station on the top of Demis Roussous. She perished before giving birth to her own stepfather. By some strange coincidence, some ten years earlier her twin sister and her changed places. Olga (her sister) died. As did she.