Pitch invasion

Malthus strode into the room, balefully glaring around him. "There are too many characters," he began; "our figures show that, given this rate of increase, the whole book will fill up with character names alone. Something must be done. Oh, and another thing — there's too much gibber."

"O.K. the man's right," agreed Mr T, thrusting out Malthus from the room. "There, sucker — that's one fewer character."

But at this point the plot was regrettably interrupted by killer zombies invading the pitch. They were soon dispersed by the plot attendants, who soundly argued the case for not cluttering up the work with unnecessary diversions and idle pretensions. Most zombies dispersed peacefully, but stronger measures were required for a handful of troublemakers.

"What about unemployment?" shouted Theodora.

"Cui bono?" asked Quintus Lutatius Catulus, making a surprise entry.

But that was all — the room dematerialised and all that remained was a soft toy. And the entire Turkish army. Oh and Zimbabwe. Add 2 teaspoons of sugar and mix well. They think I'm mad. {Upside down} But I am not. *. So there it (is). (In)sanity sets in. "Sets in what," asked Jacques. "No EEC bureaucrats in here," said the local Tory candidate, pointing Delors towards the Door.

"No, not the Door," he said.

"Yeah, I never liked their music either," said Ernie, he who drove the fastest milk cart in the West.