Trying as best I can to do as good a post as your last one was.

Yolanda bolted up the stairs, frothing at the mouth in her eagerness to tape Shortland Street. (Even though she openly criticised Timothy for watching Home Improvement too much, by her standards Shortland Street was ok. Bizzarre standards, huh.)
But she tripped! Thud. And whacked her chin on something hard protuding out from under the carpet like a rock hidden under some carpet.
If Yolanda listened closely, she could even hear the interstellar space signals running through the rock.
".......BZZT!.....Aaah, just a double cheeseburger and fries today thanks Spleekj...."

"Oh no!" cried Yolanda as the implications sunk in.
Timothy was heading into a situation of extreme danger!
It was too late to tape Shortland Street!
Spleekj was heading into a huge copyright battle with McDonalds!
And worst of all, she had a ridiculously large purple bruise which would rival that on Timothy's knee protuding from underneath her chin!

Yolanda sprinted downstairs and off to Fun-Fun Street.

***********************************************************************************

Timothy wandered further into the Amusement park, the quivering security guard at his shoulder.
"It's raining men! Hallellujiah, it's raining men, Amen!"
"Stop that! Just because you're a singing security guard it doesn't mean you have to sing non-stop! And are you sure as a guy you should be singing that song? That's disgusting!"
"Sorry..."
Timothy looked all around him. The Amusement park was completely empty, except for the crowds of people in the Diner.
"Well, he won't be in there," mused Timothy, "with that ridiculously big nose of his he hates crowds. Everyone can't stop laughing at him!"
Suddenly and without warning the security guard started laughing.
"What are you laughing at Reginald?" (Reginald was the security guard's name)
"He he he! Ho ho ho! Ha ha ha! That....that....ha ha ha! That guy over there by the rollercoaster woih the really big..... he he he ha ha ha ho ho ho NOSE!"
Reginald collapsed on the ground and started weesing. (Not to be confused with wheezing, weesing is where you laugh so hard you wet your pants, don't care, and keep laughing so hard until you wet your pants again. It's a vicious cycle.)

Timothy looked toward the rollercoaster, and saw for the first time in ten years....BEVEN! (Suddenly as if from nowhere an orchestra started playing that really cliched "bow bow bow...." tune you always here when bad guys appear.)
"Hello, Timothy..." Beven said in a breathy nasal voice, for it was how he talked. "Have you got the Backgammon?"
"Yes!" warbled Timothy, "where's The George?"
"The George is in a safe place, Timothy. Where's Yolanda? I know you two have been spending a lot of time together lately."
"Yolanda?" cried Timothy. "What's she got to do with it?"

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