17th December, 1993
Traumatic. Thematic. These were the ways of the post office. Dennis the deconstructionist suffered and I know this is hard to believe, excepting the fact that you have just been seriously involved in a dental incident featuring rubber boots, a quality of aardvark and many indefinite grilled stoats.
Stuart began to laugh, as did the next author who didn't have a clue. Cuthbert the also human wombat was incontinent and as such deserved a large dose of fluid tablets to absorb the sponge stuck on his neck. Paraffin began forming in uliginous traumatic hollows beneath the bridge of the oil tanker. Sponges would not be enough to stop blood gushing from Dennis, so they called for a large trash compactor and pike so they could open the restaurant before it had been built.
Rob Pike and the Exploding Electric Beetroot would eventually take the stage, if Patrick didn't steal it first. So far Patrick had avoided stepping on the land mines and was now approaching the razor wire, when Henry the Git who had no idea of what was going on died. His hair was a bright purple in order to access a secret trapdoor at the foot of a volcano near a small hamlet in order to be somewhere else instead of Hamletville-under-the-Volcano.
Soon Patrick moved in and property values tumbled as everyone expected earthquakes, typhoons, tornados and nuclear winter. But wait, there's more; if they could only move Hamlet tonight! But alas, before they could do so a garage marauding meta-jurd ate them all and then died unsurprisingly. Aghast, Dennis took Cheryl in the hallway. Needless to say this is a family story and only after large bribes to the censor will it ever be published.
Cheryl, in any case, hoped that in future Dennis would at least run away never to come backwards for Christmas again. It is sad that this deconstructionist sequence had started in the hamlet sometime after the first sequence was initiated and ceased to exist. How exquisite! The trauma experienced a negative G-force and threw up all over the borrowed kitchen table, so they would never be invited again. The end.