The editor gave his ace crime reporter a list of names.
"All these old ladies have mysteriously disappeared in the last week. Get on it, Chip."
Chip grabbed his notebook and went to interview the neighbours.
"We saw a strange light in the sky," said one woman's husband.
"It was the work of aliens," said another's neighbour.
"I saw a flying saucer. Then she was gone."
Three almost identical accounts. Chip raced back to the office and wrote up his story. What a scoop!
"I like it, Chip. I'm just not sure of your headline."
INVASION OF THE BIDDY SNATCHERS.
"Mummy! I want to go wee."
"Not now, Johnny. You should have gone before we got on."
Mother looked down at her six year-old in irritation. Already the car was beginning to move, gathering speed for the incline ahead.
The rollercoaster reached its peak, plummeting down amid delighted squeals and childish laughter, slamming around the corners, tossing them from side to side, before rising again.
The car slowed, the bars retracted.
"Can I go wee now?"
"Yes all right. Don't be long."
Johnny grinned. Arms raised, he ran towards the next ride. "Wheee!" he said.
It was all her own fault.
She nagged him for her own computer. He bought her one.
She nagged him about the cable running down the stairs.
He said it was necessary.
She said it was a death trap.
He said it was the network cable linking their two machines.
She nagged him to remove it, said it was dangerous.
He said he'd do it tomorrow.
By the time the ambulance men arrived and the paramedics said she'd broken her neck, he'd tidied the wiring away and moved her computer upstairs.
He said it was an accident. They believed him.