Monday, June 8, 2015


I was already preparing to leap out of the plane, but suddenly Harold flung a pork chop at my head, knocking me sideways with an almighty splat and right out the door into free-fall. I could barely contain my rage at this act of moral pulchritude. How dare he ruin my first sky diving experience. I would somehow conspire to erase every tape of Neighbours in existence, destroying his legacy, that would do it. As I fumed and plotted, an angel came flapping up next to me, white wings, cherubic bottom and all, and whispered, "That's not enough. You have to kill him. You have to kill his family and burn his house to the ground."

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