7th May, 1989
Olga awoke to the bright morning. Sunshine was streaming in through the window and the birds were slowly dying of radiation sickness and the trees were losing their leaves. Olga vomited painfully into the sink and died painfully only to be brought back to life by the miracle surgery performed by Patrick's brother Norman. Unfortunately, brilliant as it was, it was not enough to stop the poor individual dying immediately (no doubt about it).
Yesterday, he had taken his mother's panty-hose and used them to commit a most felonous deed. Using them he was able to clone Patrick, and breed a super-race of llama hunters. However, in infringing Sir Mervyn Moncrieff's patents on cloning always-dead people, all the llama hunters had to be shot to conserve the llama population of that other well known story. Llamas, of course, do not feature at all in this story, and should.
It is of little consequence that Stephanie was now six feet under and clawing her way desperately towards the centre of the planet. A few unrelated sentences later, the writer had gone back to the previous paragraph. A bit like snakes and ladders, huh?
The archaebacterial infection was seriously damaging her brain by now, leaving holes in her head where the rain could get in. Patrick was sick of impersonating dead things, and decided to impersonate Robert instead. Meanwhile a person not unlike Robert was hit by a bus. Next to him was his twin brother who was also not unlike him and by coincidence was also killed in the previous sentence.
Fortunately that sentence was never written, and so Patrick was still alive and anticipating the birth of his first child, when, strengthening the bonds of marriage still further, their cat stapled their heads together, and, just to make sure, cemented their relationship with gaff tape. They knew if there was a separation it would kill both instantly. So they did. And it did. So much for our main characters.
In a small cottage somewhere in Norway, Olga lay bleeding from her carotid artery and was fading fast. However just before she disappeared completely, Aethelfrith stabbed her from behind in a moment of frenzied rage leading to the end of this story. Please forgive any inaccuracies above, and remember that death is only a transitory pleasure.