as i sit at my computer a cold wind blows outside and nature's violence
rages, thunder pounding the eardrum, competing against thought itself.  But
not louder than the evil grinding whine of the drill from the room next to
me as Terry finishes an argument started just minutes before with a friend
of his who called at the house.  When the friend turned up Terry was
incensed at the mere cheek of this man who dared to bother him on Wednesday -
the holy day.
Terry then asked the man if he could fly, the poor man looked perplexed as
Terry grew ever more agitated, Terry asked again if the man could.

The answer did not please him.

Terry strapped this man to the sofa of pain and drilled a hole into the skull.
He then inserted a straw.
He feasted well.
Terry then put on his brand new dungarees and new shoes and prepared for a night out.

Terry and I had a supermarket to open. We left in high spirits having
dismembered the corpse and having handed it to a child playing in a nearby
garden.

We arrived at the supermarket and we encountered our first problem-Terry
refused to converse with anyone in English, he chose Taiwanese as his
language of the night.
As Terry stood ready to cut the ribbon an old woman remarked rather loudly
for her own good: "Terry, you're the best, i think you're wonderful. Could
you please spare a moment to sign your name on this photo of yourself, it
will be of such a comfort to my poor daughter who lies sick on a hospital
bed, she adores you Terry! please."

Terry fell silent, his shoulders trembling with rage, his new trenchcoat
made of the skin of the just killed "our jacky" still with lifeless head
attached, misted over eyes prison bars for a tortured soul, a soul who had
once crossed Terry and who now lay draped across his shoulders, blood
congealed and flesh rancid.
How dare this mere mortal, this fucking whore, dare to break his
concentration. She will learn thought Terry and he would show to the world
that he is truly the godfather of english football.

Terry snapped his fingers and the door of his empty limo sprung open and a
servant fetched Terry his aquarium. Terry snatched out a struggling goldfish
and licked it all over and put it behind his ear for safekeeping.

He then summoned forth the portable altar and he tied the unfortunate woman
to it with many chains.
Terry then used the scissors intended for the supermarket ribbon to remove
both her ears for he said they taunted him.
He then fed her the ears in small bloody chunks.
Terry ordered her to be packed into the boot of the limo, and it was so .

The crowd were aghast, half crying, half vomiting. Terry smiled and placed
the fish from behind his ear into his mouth, and he crunched. Blood trickled
down his chin. He was happy.

Security pounced on him at once, and handcuffs were put on him.
Terry looked to the heavens and said in a roar that shood the earth;
" I AM TERRY VENABLES, I MAY DO AS I PLEASE. NOW LEAVE ME BE"

the security men sighed, they knew he was right.
Terry then stepped up and cut the ribbon to rapturous applause.
Terry then posed for photos with various members of the public and the
bloodied scissors, all for a reasonable £55 each (old women pay double).

We then drove to burgerking as all the hard work had made Terry very hungry.

such is a typical day in the service of Terry the Godfather of English fooball.
it is a simple life with it's rewards: limitless roadkill and the friendship
of Terry, who, underneath all the needless murder and cruelty lies a kind
hearted and likeable man who is kind to all who he wants to be.