11th May, 1990
Bjorn the woodcutter had just returned from a wonderful and warm night in Antarctica, and he was looking forward to a well earned sleep, when it very suddenly occurred to him that he was supposed to be at the north pole. He reasoned that this error had been caused by a large disturbance in the magnetic fields around his head, possibly caused by the large butcher's knife which was embedded in it. Stuart laughed at this, which was his wont, and decided to begin the experiment by removing it to see what effect it had on the electron flow in the sponge. The resulting burst of electrical activity and eerie green glow convinced him that he had, at last, discovered cold fusion. In truth, however, what had really happened was a fan heater had fallen into the bath tub, which wasn't too bad as the water had grown just a bit too cold for his liking.
In another part of the woods, and indeed in another paragraph, Anja, the Swedish air hostess and sometime masseuse, lay choking on a large legbrace, which was a perennial problem for her. How the legbrace ever managed to get in such positions was quite beyond her understanding and yet there it was in her sweater between her left arm and the copy of `Gilligan's Island Monthly' which she had just bought. The man at the magazine stand had asked a lot of embarrassing questions, but none so embarrassing as ``Do you really read `Gilligan's Island Monthly'?'', to which she had to reply ``Mind your own business!''. Her aunty had once given her a copy and she never recovered. She was even going to `Gilligan's Anonymous' to try and kick her utterly disgusting habit. Unbeknownst to her, her aunty was a closet `Lost In Space' fan, and was out to subvert the world. Although neighbors would complain about shouts of ``Danger Will Robinson!'' emanating from her house, they managed to cope by blasting the volume of their TV. The neighbors were avid `Brady Bunch' fans which led them to commit suicide, taking with them several other neighbours, which was a thing altogether.
The arrival of the police onto the scene had a devastating effect, as the television crews were told that Neighbours was a crime against humanity and they must desist from shooting, or be charged with silliness with intent to cause middle aged housewives to buy ridiculous amounts of breakfast cereal. The producers, however, claimed cinematic immunity and were allowed to continue. The middle aged housewifes, however, wrote and produced their own movie called `How to survive being manacled to a house', and it was an all-time hit when shown during the soapie hour. They all retired to Bolivia, where detergent was cheap and froth flowed freely, frightening ferrets fearfully. Fred fled from Walinda with weird worrisome wildebeests which whimpered woefully while the elves danced about her body - for indeed had she fallen in love with the Elvenking, and because she was mortal, they had to staple her to the ground and sing mystic chants about theodolites. The hobgoblins were rather upset at her defection to the elves, and so they decided to break in on the wedding and upset the applecart by feeding steroids to a small group of ducks. The ducks then muscled the apple cart to the ground spilling the fruit all over the courtyard. The guests began tripping and flailing their arms about. One of them fell on a small chainsaw with inevitable results - yes, the poor thing was bent, and had to be taken away to be repaired.
Several Tim Tams later, Anja was relieved to find her ducks back to normal, as it had only been a nightmare. Meanwhile, back in television land the coffee percolator was gurgling happily away to itself in a corner, whilst the dining sponges glowed eerily. The strange pulsating green light attracted the attention of a large antelope which had just done a scene for `Wild, Wild World of Ducks.' Upon approaching the sponges the antelope was surprised when the green light suddenly turned blue and a large Policeperson jumped out of the bushes. He was lucky to get off with loitering and vagrancy, and a night in the local lockup.
As the sun rose over the jail the next morning, our poor victim began to wonder what his name was. He'd managed to lose it amongst the rose bushes, and this disturbed him deeply. He even remembered the bush where it was but, in his present circumstances, couldn't get there. Meanwhile in Zimbabwe, Abu Jomba sat back in his functional kitchen chair and pondered what had become of his pet antelope. Abu was almost positive he had seen it on television the previous night. His pet was very recognizable on account of the large javelin sticking through its back; it had unfortunately wandered onto the playing fields of the last Olympics. Abu had spent several days trying to get it out, but it had stuck fast. Suddenly his chair turned into a bowl of petunias - very aesthetic, but hardly useful. The javelin was moved by this transformation and promptly relinquished its hold, allowing the coffee percolator to unplug itself from the wall and continue the life-long quest for its mortal enemy, Ricardo Montalduck, who had five years since done the most hideous thing imaginable to the percolator ... he had plugged it in! This shocking revelation led to his demise, and to the demise of the percolator, which flickered out of existence when the slightly green rapacious municipal dining sponges marched into the room demanding their breakfast.