Sentence The Twohundredandeighth
 
 A knock at the door took Sammy into the hallway, as Teri tapped the screen of her laptop, hoping to find the right emollient for a touch of eczema in her left ear, but most of the descriptions of the merits of the various 'home remedies' she discovered seemed to her to verge on the ignis fatuus, while the rest were blatantly shite; she heard voices from the lobby and called to Sammy: “whoozit?” and received the reply: “itza Polis!” and so enquired politely: “whit fur?” and Sammy sweetly responded: “itza rammy inra Close!” to which she mellifluously sang out, “soonz like a zombocalypse!” and received in return a darling voice she recognised: “naw! itzra ebullient WPC Isa Urquhart, kin ye spare a cuppa mulk fur ma man's purritch ra morn's morn?” and Teri  rose to greet her favourite
 
Cousin: “this stuff can wait till later,” she said to the room at large and pressed 'save'! And it was hours later when. Isa having left and Sammy running a bath, Teri returned to the laptop, found what she had written earlier, added an update, and clicked on 'Submit'!