17th December 2001
You may remember that I finished the last instalment with a seat-wettingly exciting cliff-hanger, surrounded by a small legion of giant psycho-squirrels. My plan was to draw out the suspense. However it has been brought to my attention that having left it quite so long, people may worry that I'd got beaten up. I can now proudly set the record straight. I did get beaten up.

It had all been going so well. We automatically fell into the Herzmann defensive formation (as used by Norman Herzman in 1915), which was the answer to the competition. Despite numerous entries from all over the world, no one got it right so I kept the 3 cents for myself. It went to a good cause, as Shane's Mum will testify when she checks her record from the nights of the 15th, 16th and 17th of November. Sadly, the well-trained commander of the giant psycho-squirrels knew the counter to the Herzman defensive formation. This is to repeatedly punch your opponents very hard in the face. Logic girl was first to go down. After taking out two
squirrels with a jumping roundhouse kick, the third one outsmarted her by repeatedly punching her very hard in the face. With her gone, we folded like a cheap whore who'd been kicked in the stomach by a fat man with sores on his face. Philosophers started falling like flies. Soon, it was just me, facing Commander Blackberry and 3 of his lieutenants. It was time for me to show them what I was made of. They picked me up out of the foetal position and proceeded to make a careful study of my internal organs by bouncing me of various trees and observing the impression left.

When I woke up in hospital, I had a feeling all was not well. I fearfully lowered my gaze to survey the damage. My heart skipped a beat as I saw the mangled, hideous mess that passed for my body.
"What have those monsters done to me?" I cried.
"Er, actually, your body looks exactly the same as it did in the first place?" said the nurse.
"Oh." Pause. "Any chance of a new one anyway?"
"Sorry. Your insurance only covers damage inflicted since you got here. I'm afraid 3rd nipples just have to be put up with. And...er...I guess 4th and 5th ones too. Anyway, you should be well enough to stand up."

I tentatively got up, took a step and fell flat on my face. Looking at my feet, the big toes seemed to be in the wrong place. They were on the outside rather than the inside. My brain went into over-drive as I tried to recall what feet were supposed to look like. The results were worrying.
"I WANNA SEE THE DOCTOR‚"
"That's lucky, he's just coming"
"Hi everybody, I'm Dr. Nick"
"Hi Dr. Nick. What have you done to my feet?"
"Aha, it's the survivor of the fight, with his right foot on his left and his left foot on his right."
"Aren't you going to give me an explanation?"
"You'll get no joy from me as you're just a lousy foreigner, and I'm far too busy now - I've a meeting with the coroner."
"What the hell was that about?"
"Too much Rupert the Bear as a child" said the nurse. "But I can tell you that you're the lucky volunteer for this pioneering feet-swap surgery. We went through the files to check who was right or left footed. Yours said 'Neither‚' We had a winner."
"What if I can never play football again?"
"According to our reports, nobody would know the difference."
"Bugger."

Next installment – Can Sausage Dog ever return to his goal-scoring ways?