The postman was let go after he upset a differently abled person and said rude things to a person of colour, asking if she wanted to discuss Uganda. He subsequently returned, tired and emotional, and proceeded to make his colleagues pass away in a hail of bullets. I immediately spent a penny in my unmentionables as he pointed the weapon of mass destruction at my head and asked me if I was in some distress. I said yes, at which point the local Police Service applied reasonable force by making him pass away via a major head trauma.
'This was an unfortunate incident!' the police officer said as he pondered the collateral damage inflicted in the process. 'To think I was about to request extraordinary rendition on this illegal combatant!' I agreed wholeheartedly.
Returning home, I decided to have a small tipple in the pub to celebrate and let my hair down. Unfortunately, I let my hair down just a tad too much and had a little accident when my car had a frank exchange of views with a brick wall. I then proceeded to discuss the matter further with the paramedics, accusing one of being vertically challenged and good with colours and the other one a big boned fan of comfortable shoes. See you next tuesday, the male parademic said, as the police service arrived. I was then detained at Her Majesty's Pleasure for a period until eventually I had to discuss the matter with the two naughty boys I shared my cell with.
"You need to expand your consciousness with the food of the Gods", one naughty boy said to me, handing over a jazz cigarette. "Yes, and facilitate alternative lifestyles through non-mainstream distribution channels" said the other, pulling some Columbian Marching Powder out of his chocolate starfish.
Eventually, however, I became unwell and had a nasty accident with some razor blades. Let off early so I could get some help, I found myself in hospital next to a woman with a fuller figure. "Are you in the family way?" I asked coyly. "Nah, dear, I've got f**king stomach cancer" she replied, somewhat tactlessly.
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