Sausages. He could never shut up about sausages.

Sausages. He could never shut up about sausages. They were his life ever since

his cat died. Mostly because he blamed himself. Maybe he shouldn’t have left the iron plugged in, but he couldn’t have been late for

the seminar on how not to start fires and/or endanger household pets. Had he known then what he had known now, perhaps things would be different.

Perhaps he would have saved Sparky, and not left him in locked in the room filled with his oily rag collection. Perhaps he wouldn't have ordered the convex windows. He recalled

that arson followed him whereever he went, his junior high science project of batteries and steel wool, his experiments with sodium at the YMCA pool. Carefree good times.

STD-free sex by rubbing one out to his first girlfriend. Now he would have to have the conversation before sex. Were there ways around this wrinkle in his plans to be a porn

star? He thought, and thought hard. Hard, and long, and strenuously, until at last he came to a stunning realisation. He looked down, in shock. "Bugger," he exclaimed. For it was

what he thought felll out of his nose while he was thinking long & hard. But it wasn't a bugger at all. It was his brain.Then it was hit by the Wargon's genesis beam causing it to

grow a tree with forbidden fruit. A young couple sprung forth from his root-like cerebral cortex. They picked the fruit, unaware that the knowledge they sought was at their feet.