Hanging With Mr. Christ.

"...so there I am hanging by my fingernails on that bastard helicopter blade. It's whirring like fuck and I'm ever so gradually slipping off thinking to myself, Luke is a cunt for getting me into this mess! So then Peter lurks around the corner and says "I ain't fucking done with you yet, Christ!" and he comes over with this sack full of cats, and starts pulling them out and chucking them at me. So there I am rather quickly trying to dodge flying cat guts while clinging on to that bastard helicopter blade. I've got to have been there for 5 minutes by the time my fingernails give way and I'm sent flying off. I land into a fucking ice-cream van of all things ... and, well, you can understand the ice-cream man was going to be a bit miffed, but I didn't realise just how much! The fucker must've been six feet five, six feet seven, and he drags me up by my collar and spits cough syrup in my face. Then he starts laughing and sends me through a nearby pub window. You see, there's a lesson to be had in all of this. Always carry a flick-knife in your shoe or sandal."