I realised that I needed to get my story straight before I went any further, “Well this is the story lads, this is the story right, this is the story this is the story…. As I spoke great clumps of dirty yellowish foam became dislodged from where it had gathered around my mouth and drifted aimlessly through the air in a rather disconcerting fashion. My mouth was working away overtime but nothing coherent was coming out – it was working away bravely but it had nothing to work with, you see. I had reached a bit of a low point, a bit of a hiatus. I was running for all I was worth but getting nowhere. “It’s like this, lads, it’s like this,’ I began again but the moment had passed and you know what it’s like when the moment passes – with everything you say you’re only digging a deeper hole for yourselves. It’s like you’ve got your very own JCB. That’s how it always works, although you don’t know it at the time, of course. You can’t see it and so you end up digging a fine old grave for yourself. You end up digging a very fine grave indeed and there’s absolutely no getting out of it. To be sure there isn’t. Some things there’s just no getting out of, as I’m sure you know. Like when you’re dead and in your grave and they’re shovelling the earth down on top of you. A kind of moment like that. There’s no way out of that, you see, unless it’s Rapture Time of course, in which case a hole in the roof will appear, no matter where you are. Even if you’re in a house you will go flying out of it, called by the power of God. Nothing will stop you then of course – even iron won’t stop you. God’s not worried by iron you see – He invented it in the first place so of course He’s not worried by. It’s His show after all. It’s His show and what He says goes. I suppose the point I’m making here however is that you can’t rely on the Rapture coming to get you out of a tricky situation! That’s not the right way to be thinking about things. I wish I knew what the right way of thinking about things was but I don’t – I don’t because no one ever told me! Or rather they did tell me but they got it all wrong as usual. They got it wrong the same way they always get it wrong. They sent me on the wrong path and that’s how come I ended up in my present unhappy situation. It always comes down to this, doesn’t it? At the end of the day it ends up with you standing there awaiting judgement in the Halls of the Dead. You’re dead and you’re standing there with your knees all a-tremble – they’re knocking together so loudly that you can hardly hear yourself think. You’re waiting for your turn to be tried by the Deities, and all the while Ammit, the Eater of Souls, is looking at you with its lazy piggy eyes, licking its chops absent-mindedly. It knows you’re in the bag…