Policies for the future of the text

{in red biro} Caramba! Now that's what I call GIBBER (volume LIXV). There's limited ink in that red pen, Arthur thought. "So what's happened to the plot?" It was last spotted heading in a southerly direction. — If anyone has any information, please could they contact 'The Author', c/o The Mind, The Himalayas, where he lives in happy harmony with the Abominable Snowman. "Who said Abominable?" shouted de man in the Nazi uniform. "You vill all die or agree viz my deconstruction polizeis, sorry policies. Nein. Nein."

Textual malfunction due to radical injustice. And should we really hand over the plot to the author? Just like that? He is, as we have already seen, rather tasteless. Perhaps one should enquire more closely into his policies for the future of the text.

        That was a Party Political Textuality on behalf of Limited Responsibility

"Fairly windy" said Michael Fishy.

Fish, fash, fosh! Fush & foodles... Arthur picked up a convenient plotline and smashed them all to bits with a broomstick.