3rd September, 1989
For the most part Rodney felt as if he had just been run down by a truck. In fact, this is exactly what his worst enemy hoped, but in vain, for he was actually dead, and starting to get a bit smelly.
His best friend Patrick (who had been dead now for several years) called 000 for emergency services. ``Help!'' he cried. He began screaming insanely. This was nothing unusual, so even though the thin walls meant everyone in the city could hear the screams, they all ran away and hid down a big hole in the ground, into which was poured several gigatonnes of freshly made souvlaki from a particularly unsuccessful Greek used car salesman called Fred Kakabouras.
He had never been able to successfully operate his Stihl chainsaw, especially after the accident. As he wheeled himself down the ramp, toward the fleet of prawn trawlers, he saw her again. It was the same girl that he had met while prospecting for anti-lurgy minerals in the glacial outflow near the top of the dormant volcano above the hamlet of the other place that had no name but did have something which he could not place his rubber device on at the moment for fear of electrocution.
However, as the AIDS campaign had impressed him considerably, he decided instead he would just die peacefully. Having come to this decision, he was killed on the next pedestrian crossing by a grand piano. He lay there, his leg twisted up around his wife's third tendril to reach the radio while she operated the joystick and rudder controls.
``It's all dark and spooky here!'' so she turned on the light to find it was dark, since the light bulb had not been replaced and was not likely to be of any use to Prunella, as she could see in the dark to stab Fred right in the juncture of proceedings. Screaming with glee, Prunella swung the sword around her head and plunged mightily at the insane geologist. She killed him.