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From the way she said it I knew she was serious this time. "Antarctica? Now?" She wouldn't look at me. Damn, she was serious. "I'm going to need my winter trunk." "We're jumping

bail and setting sail to Antarctica!" At the dock, Captain Preston Walton greeted us with an icy warmth. "Welcome aboard the Harmonia. Please dine with me in my cabin tonight."

At dinner, Captain Walton turned to us:"Which of my illustrious passengers am I privileged to be dining with?" I coughed:"Actually, we're a pair of hobos you weirdly invited on-boa

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blubblubblub... As I watched the top of Bob's head disappear into the murky pond, I felt nothing but relief. To make sure Bob didn't, well, bob, I waited another hour. It was dark

and my fingers were wrinkled like prunes before I finally let go of Bob's head. Slowly he rose to the surface as a giggle of joy rose in my throat. But before I could laugh aloud,

Bob bit my fingers off. Pure agony. I screamed at the top of my lungs whilst he muched and crunched on my pruny fingers. "Terribly sorry!" Bob said. "I was so hungry,

& your fingers, well, they looked so damn tasty!" Bob licked his lips and eyed up my toes. "NO!" I protested, "I have athlete's foot & 3 verrucas!" Unfortunately Bob didn't heed my

warning, and ate my toes anyway. The good news is that Bob died this day from poisoning. The bad news is that I no longer have toes, so I couldn't attend his funeral.