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Funny the way things turn out isn’t it. I’d woken up that morning the expectant father of two. Although technically, one of them didn’t actually exist plus theoretically belonged to another man. I guess I was glad that one didn’t turn out. I wouldn’t wish a ginger step child on my worst enemy, who at the time was Barry, and who’d have had the double embarrassment of being the real father too. Anyways, one hour later I was the expectant father of none.

I’d never get to experience any of those important milestones that every father looks forward to. Me and Wayne down the park playing footie. My bitter disappointment when he becomes a Man City supporter just to spite me. Buying his first pint in the pub on his thirteenth birthday. Or helping him build his own incubator when he came to lay his own little egg. All these precious moments gone.

We never got to have a funeral for Wayne thanks to spontaneous combustion, the stray cat I mentioned earlier. It had sneaked in the back door and lapped him off the kitchen floor for breakfast. I couldn’t help think that somehow, that’s the way he would have wanted to go, as I stood listening to spontaneous crunching on what sounded like bone and gristle.

That tender last moment was rudely interrupted by the appearance of Barry. The git had just wandered in off the street. Deborah looked as irritated as I was to see him but I could tell that she secretly just wanted to run over, rip his shell suit off and give him a blow job right in front of me. The “You look worse than Cliff Richard’s scrotum“ which she barked at him didn’t fool me one bit. Mind, he did look rough. I kind of felt sorry for him. There was something about that glazed look and the way he kept yanking down at his arse that was vaguely familiar to me. It all made sense the moment he held out his hand. In his palm – an EGG!

So there you go. That’s my story. Take from it what you will, though I hasten to add this is all well copyright protected so keep your thieving mitts off it. How it’ll all work out in the end, who knows? In other words I haven’t thought the sequel up yet.

Oh, you’ll never guess the latest btw. Some daft mare wants to turn my story into a film. I offered to play myself but she said my facial deformity would put off audiences. Turns out what she meant was my huge cock would put audiences off. That would make more sense at least. Anyhoo, come back sometime and I'll give you an update about it.