Crime story

It was a beautiful day. The sun shined lovely and butterflies fiew around the colourfull flowers of the field. Charming white clouds floated on the bright blue sky, dropping shadows on the hilly-valey scenery.

Then they died.

Hundreds of people was travelling on the train, and only some of them survived the accident. One of the survivors was the French man, John, who went on holiday to London with his beautiful wife, Clara, and their child, David. They didin't speak much English, but with the dictionary Clara's grandmother's aunt gave them they solved almost every problems which occured because of their lack of language knowledge. This time not the dictionary but Peter, a Swiss banker saved them from the awkward situation. He could help them out of the train, but after throwing out the four-years-old David of the window, the arm of a seat stabbed his lung so he died immediately. Few minutes later the flames approached his deadbody, so his relatives didn't have to take care about his creamation.

This would happen in a story, but in real life things are not this easy. The problem as that Clara had a tend to do necrophilic things -she fell in love with John when she heard that the poor man would die in five months time; she was sad after the fifth year of living together because that cancer didn't kill John in time- so this was a good chance to leave John and live happily with the bloody corpse of Peter. She saved the body from the flames. Poor relatives, they would have to think about the creamtion....

They went together to the closest village when the terrorists who caused the accident-involving-masses-of-people had lunch break. At the inn, Clara rented a room for John and David, bought them a bottle of whisky, wrote a letter, and left them for ever.

Dear Peter, who was not more than a pile of flesh and bones and a pack of refreshing towel, was so charming that Clara immediately wanted to have sexual intercourse with him; but when she touched the fresh flesh covered with gore, she discovered her vorerophilic inclinations, so she modified her plans.

John got drunken quickly. He didn't realise that David who was usually running and chitchatting fell in silence. Perhaps because he ate the empty bottle of the whisky. John could only find one solution to his problem (he had no money, so he couldn't buy more alcohol): he took the parfume, containing poison, and commited a suicide. Other relatives would have to arrange the funeral...

Clara cooked Peter. The sweet smell of burning flesh was so lovely to her that she forgot about her plans to make "Chilled Beetroot Consomme" from his dead lover.

She lived happily ever after.

Good joke, isn't it? She suffocated because of a piece of Peter's backbone. When she felt she would die, she thought of her relatives and the undertakers she hated so much, so she lied on the cooker. Rest in pieces of ash. Onyl a little cat earring remained of her.

Nobody lived happily never after.