This is a story, in which each paragraph is written by different people. It's quite dodgy in areas, but i will not apologise for it, because i only wrote a paragraph.

Beth (me): Once upon a time, there lived a man named Englebert, whos unfortunate name cost him his first girlfriend, and in the future, his first wife. The metallic bonding of his head was soon to be melted by the robot squad - they had a tendency to be slightly evil. Being a robot had unfortunate disadvantages. Englebert was never considered a real man, and therefore, never got to perform his duties in the Food Discussion group. Eating was his life long ambition, however, he often suffered from bad bouts of constipation combined with insomnia - both of these together took there toll on Englebert, and he resorted to living in the carribean. He wanted to meet more girls in more bikinis.

Mark: After eight children and endless amounts of lovers, and still lonely, Englebert decided to strive for a more fulfilling lifestyle. He moved from the Carribean, dropped his raster tendencies and sold his home grown (finest) dope. He thought that to suceed he must become a citizen that respected law and order. He changed his name to Patrick and set up a business in Bracknell. All was not as it first appeared however, certain underground 'set-ups' soon led poor Patrick astray in endulgences such as prostitution, and illegal kite-flying left him bankrupt with his business in tatters. His house (which he built illegally in a park) soon got knocked down and having to resort to eating from bins, Patrick decided again to change some things about his miserable life which he was now, quite unfortunately, leading.

Elly: After a year of all this hoopla, one of his many children (called Engleburt 2nd) turned up on his non-existant door step and asked if he had a cup of sugar. The newly named Patrick refused to give his son any sugar on acount of the fact that he didn't have any. He offered to rummage through one of Bracknell's finest litter bins in the most prestigeous park in the whole of the estate but his son said that it really was ok, and started on a journey of 150 miles back to his home country of Wallop Gallop.

Steph: The journey took seven days a nights as he trekked with a limp in both hand a foot. The dusty, bleak road made him hunger for a bushel of apples and thirst for anything but camomile tea, for that was a flavour he promised his body he would never swallow again. Sometimes, in the dead of night, he would hear the fleeting coo of his long lost love, Dorris, begging him to return to her. He could still see her loving face, her smile lit up by the deep orange of her cigarrete: still smell her perfect aroma of smoke and Eau D'avion. Alas, he knew it was mere exhaustion and dehydration. He simply wished his sleep would grant him sweet surrender from reality. And so he slept.

Lucy: Meanwhile, in a bed now far far away, Patrick was a-sleeping next to a dead-to-the-world (sleepy) prostitute. And so it came to him a dream - far stranger than before - a dream to change his ways. And this was no drug-induced hallucination! The creature of Ohm came to him in the form of a tortoise, thirsty for the belief of the masses. And he said unto Patrick:
"Alo thar. Ah can see that you've not gawt much ta dew - so i thawt ah'd teach you aboot stars. Stay away from the black holes or you'll be spaghettifeyed. And studeh the stars - they'll tell ya awl ya need for yer life ahood."
And then in an instant, her was gone.

To be continued...