so he suddenly had the very devious thought

and rolling Julie in the duvet, along with his jam mixture covered shoes, which he'd removed, he stuffed the lot into the dishwasher. As Brian hunted for some dishwasher tablets the birds twittered outside and the breeze gently swayed the corn in the field,

sending a marvellous fragrance into the kitchen. It reminded him of his halcyon days when he

wore womans cloths and jumped through the neighbours gardens

singing ion his lovely tenor voice. Meanwhile the Paparazzi outside were getting very

wet, because the big old grey clouds that gathered from nowhere suddenly opened up and

the rain started to fall, the windows; which were grey and grimy were soon covered in small rivulets of water, the birds stopped twittering and sought shelter in the trees around the edge of the corn fields which weren't swaying in the breeze anymore.

Over the sound of the birds twittering in the trees, Brian suddenly realised he could hear screams coming from the dishwasher, where he had stuffed Julie, still rolled up in the jammy dishwasher. He considered switching it off and rescuing her, and eventually decided to

wait until the dishwasher's cycle had finished, as he fancied a cup of tea and there were no clean mugs. Outside the birds twittered damply, dripping rainwater (amongst other things) onto the soaked paparazzi who were still huddled under the trees despite the fact that the rain had stopped. Brian,

opened the window and shouted, "Oi! You lot!

Fancy a cuppa?" The assembled throng of damp paparazzi nodded, dripping even more rain water on to their expensive cameras. Brian found this mildly

amusing as it stopped him thinking about Julie in the washing machine. Julie by now was

looking like the result of a banana mating with a sundried tomato, and her diposition (never pleasant) was beginning to resemble the pleasant demenour of a cane toad on speed.

The paparazzi, upon entering the kitchen and hearing the howls emitted by the strange creature emerging from the dishwasher...

began to

rapidly snap pictures, having decided that this was either the physical form of some ghostly apparition, or it was an entirely new species. Either way, they decided that the first one to publish the pictures of it would make a fortune. Having shoved Brian rudely out of the way, the fastest paparazzi slipped on the jam mixture that was still covering the floor and landed squarely on

top of julie, who's new physical form could not take the weight of this man, thus

taking on a rather strange collapsed shape. On top of having been rolled up in a duvet and shoved in the dishwasher, this was the final straw, and she packed all her worldly belongings into two very large suitcases, including her collection of

George Michael replica underpants

and hit the road. She decided that at this time of year a very nice place to go would be

to head off in the general direction of away, grab some sun, sea, sangria and

build a sandcastle, which would need a bucket-like receptacle for the sand. Unfortunately Julie didn't have a sand-castle-building-bucket, so she had to make do with a

KFC family bucket, which initially was full of fried chicken, so to remedy this situation she

ate all the chicken, but this still left the problem of what to do with the bones.

Luckily, inspiration struck, and a quick fiddle with some coloured card, a pair of safety scissors and some sticky-back plastic, a la Blue Peter, quickly resulted in some colourful flags to decorate the sandcastles with. Now that she was ready to go, Julia realised she would need some reliable transport, so she called her mate

who had a smart car