h2g2 The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy: Earth Edition

Unfortunately, before this, we had to sit in my bare flat, for hours and hours, and hours and minutes beside, drinking tea, and having endless conversations regarding the exact observence of the strict hoovering guidelines now produced by Kensington district council, which outlawed the use of hoover's between teh hours of 6 AM and 9 PM.

Fortunately that didn't matter as now with the aubergine I could make ratatouille and feed the hourds that had gathered in my flat

Unfortunately as more and more people began arriving I realised the aubergine wouldn't extend to all present, but luckly as they arrived they each brought food and/or drink, Mr Blair arrived, with a hundred sausages on sticks, and a bottle of wisky, Thora turned up, with some mulled wine and a stack of tins, full of cakes, whilst a huge array of porkpies and pies were brought by John Presctott...

Fortunatley, the lovely latino pastry shop owners wife with her delectable figure squeezed into her ubiquitous pink dress also turned up, and smiled a sultry smile...

Unfortunetly, as teh night wore on, I noticed she had disappeared, however, a inspection of the flat quickly revealed that she was waiting, in my bedroom, laying on the bed with a bottle of champaign on ice beside the bed, and the smell of pastry's filling the room.

Fortunately, I noticed the loaded gun she had hidden behind her back and was able to block the deadly bullet with Thora, who had followed me upstairs in the hope of finding the toilet. You know how her bladder gets at that age...

Unfortunately, the insistence of my titanium codpiece adorned 'glasgow' forced me to still attempt a seduction of the dangerous latino lovely...

Fortunately, she made good her escape, fearing recriminations from the death of a stage-and-screen legend, and thus my life was not put at risk by my recklessness.

(Do you get the feeling that I'm determined to break up this burgeoning relationship?)

Unfortunately Thora had not been killed by the bullet, which had struck a particularly stale eccles cake she kept in her pocket for such ocasions, and she proceded to attempt to sexually seduce me over a small bunch of spring onions, located on teh bathroom floor (it was one of those* kind of partys).

Fortunately, her heart gave out at that moment from all the excitement.

Unfortunately what her heart had given out, was a large bolt of fork lightening, which struck the bunch of spring onions, sending them up in a cloud of black smoke, which drifted upwards through the bathroom, tracing an invisible pattern of the lightening, and seeming as to incriminatingly linger round the rigormoticed body of the poor, lovely, talented Thora, laying on the floor in a twisted cacophony of contortions from her heart attack, which had occurred mere moments after giving out a bolt of lightening.

Unfortunately, her rapidly expanding body, as caused from an allergic reaction to onions, blocked the doorway to the bathroom and left me with no means of escape...

(Yes Bob, you do seem to want to continually frustrate me)

Oops...!!

Fortunately, the smoke set off the fire alarm, clearing all those undesirables from my house and allowing me to ring the emergency services on my mobile phone and deal with the late Thora.

Unfortunately it was at this moment, whilst contemplating the best thing to do with Thora's bloted body, that Rolf Harris arrived, and handed the keys for my car, which he had found on The Mal, where I had left them after attending the cocktail party at the palice, celibrating as I had done, four days previously, the discovery of buttered scones, in the norfolk countryside, berried beneath the pete.

Fortunately, knowing my penchant for bad spelling at this time of day, Rolf understood all of this and handed me the keys... which was rather remarkable as it had been established some time ago that Rolf was, in fact, dead!!

Fortunately, that was not particularly unfortunate.

Unfortunately my hands were rather greasy and the keys slipped from my grasp into the yawning chasm that was Thora's mouth, so bloated that the keys slid down her throat into the foetid darkness below.

Fortunately, I kept a vet's glove in the bathroom cabinet for just such occasions... ('cause this happens all the time round my house)

Unfortunately before I could extract the keys, the emergency services burst in and zipped Thora into a decontamination bag which they carried out to an armoured vehicle & drove away.