The last man on earth sat anxiously in his

The last man on earth sat anxiously in his living room There was a knock at the door.

His mind raced. Was it playing tricks on him? He inched closer to the door, palms sweaty as he grasped the doorknob. Gingerly he turned the knob and opened it.

He was dimly aware that the doorknob came off the door and was still in his hand when the building suddenly collapsed around him in a cloud of dust and plaster. When he awoke, it

was hard to orient himself. He was lying on a cold surface and saw the sillhoette of two figures with over-dimensioned heads bending over him. One was holding a syringe-like device

and the other held a key chain, dangling and jangling relentlessly. "Now now precious, look at the shiny bits while mama gives you your medicine," she said to him. Terrified, he

panicked, and accidentally swallowed the keys. At least he would be getting more iron in his diet. Iron and laxatives.

It took several hours, but he got his keys back, and also several internal lacerations. He had just enough blood to drive himself to the hospital. They treated him for sepsis, but

refused to operate on him, claiming "he's already been sliced up enough, yo. There aint much more we can do, bruv". The cuts to the NHS has been more severe than he'd first thought

. They handed him some staples and a hot glue gun. "From now on yer on your own. Next!" They pushed him out the back into the alley. He looked down at the pamplet, Step 1. "

He stared down in disbelief. "This is absurd, I don't even know what a 'compact presario' is, and I'm certainly not sticking it in my microwave!" And with that, he threw it away.