BANG! He knee-capped himself, screaming for many long minutes in disbelief at how much pain he could possibly endure without losing consciousness, and only as he was close to death did he manage to mutter ‘YOLO’ into the camcorder that he had fortuitously dropped at just the right angle to capture his farewell grimace.
“Everything’s just ‘me, me, me’ nowadays, isn’t it?” tutted Auntie Glenda grumpily. Emma murmured in vague agreement, but she knew that Glenda was being unduly bitter. Things had been pretty fucking ‘me, me, me’ in her day too, especially that time when a six foot eight adult film star had arrived at her local pub and all the women had run toward him and screamed to be the one he picked to take away. Glenda had been the winner – of that little contest and, later, his colossal wand of hot meat pressing outward against the walls of her flanginal socket.