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  1. Continue the story game 3.

    trip up, he then fell headlong into a bowl of fermenting custard he had just been preparing to eat, which led to his face looking like Mount 🗻 Etna on a bad day. Yellow......
  2. Continue the story game 3.

    consequence, she discovered, of sitting on a bag of squelchy tomatoes, which led to Edith...
  3. Continue the story game 3.

    the re arrival of Edith Stribble, who had asked Martin to have a shower. "Young man, what a fool you seem. I think we need to get to grips, here, with the frightful state of your flat. No will not be taken for an answer. Not for nothing did I do 48 years as a hospital cleaner." So off she went, mop, bucket, brushes and cloths, marching into Martin's dirty, stinking, flat. " Mind the hole in the bathroom floor ", declared Martin, thinking....
  4. Continue the story game 3.

    bath towel and shook it limply, like as if he was a puppy tapping a leaf in a park. "I will tell you my neighbour, that I want you to go and switch off the taps in your flat, or what remains of it. Then take your stinking bath and put it in the nearest bin. I am having 🇫🇷..... Fren..." "Mais out, you home terrible.. I was juste telling ze man about ze French letteur when ze ceiling caved.." "Now wait a while chaps and chapettes, isn't it time that we sorted it all out convivially? Curmudgeonly is the name but let's not get nasty about that. Snoring 😴 is a scourge of....
  5. Continue the story game 3.

    into the living room occupied by David Beetroot, came hurtling an iron bathtub, replete with a gallon and a fifth of soapy water. Plaster everywhere, David and Solange escaped to the kitchen, only to receive a knock from a man in a bath towel.. "Sorry I think my bath just descended into your living room. Can you confirm?"
  6. Continue the story game 3.

    a man named Bede Alnwick has devised an anti snoring device. Can you try getting him one. David? " " Well who on earth are you? I never met you and here you are attempting to get me to buy devices for snorers. Buy it yourself... Hello? Mr Squiller? It's David Beetroot.. Yes.. A bloke called Martin is flooding my flat with suds as I discuss French letters with Solange....
  7. Continue the story game 3.

    bloque d'apartemente is consumed by zis...mess!!" Sam Curmudgeonly declared that he was keen on anti 😴 snoring devices, did David know any that he could buy, then give to poor old Martin? " After all, it's not....
  8. Continue the story game 3.

    grand proportions, David, I beseech thee. " A minute later, Sam and Solange woke Martin by rapping on his door. " Who....
  9. Continue the story game 3.

    heat up your kitchen. I can see the conflagration from here". Martin shut the door in Edith's less than pleasant face and ran to the smouldering bin, stinking of burning marmite and smouldering undergarments. "My God, the damage a discarded lit match can do", he mused rhetorically. Edith had departed when he opened the door. He shut the door and lay on his bed. Thirty minutes later, Sam Curmudgeonly, 65, was disturbed by loud honking, rasping snoring. Solange Boulanger, his neighbour, got drips of soapy water through into her living room, where she was giving French lessons to David Beetroot, 42. "Now Davide, this is a French letter". The envelope soon got drips of thick white liquid on it, and it was soapy water. "Who lives....
  10. Continue the story game 3.

    black, acrid smoke swirls are polluting my little kitchenette, with its sun-dried tomatoes, it's plum duff and it's hummus with sriracha pickle and eggplant mayo sandwiches? Are you burning something? " A swirl of smoke suddenly
  11. Continue the story game 3.

    a pair of sweaty underpants, a spoon, and a half eaten marmite sandwich. Martin was thinking of having a bath, when a knock at the apartment door made him more rational again. Adjoining flat occupant, Edith Stribble, 74, looked concerned, not least due to Martin being wrapped in a towel.....
  12. Continue the story game 3.

    The line went dead. Martin harrumphed angrily, sighed, lit a stinking fag and puffed away, not.....
  13. Continue the story game 3.

    well this cutie named Emma Ratchet, no good though despite her lovely dark eyes.. More interested in time, order, and being tidy, than assisting me to get better. I may even put a call through to the MP." An hour later, Barnard B. Ebblenib, 21, was fielding questions from Martin, about what nurses have, and do not have, to do" to make a patient more comfy. You know Mister Ethical dibs, I really feel it was wrong of her to flirt and then say she's married,, like my masculine pride isn't gonna be impaired, nay shattered, by such... " " Mr Smith, do calm down. I am the secretary, and bon viveur good omen, for Sylvia Keaton, your great MP . How....
  14. Word Association

    🍭 Lollies