Sentence The Threehundredandeightyseventh 

Roxy Davidova was over the moon, cock-a-hoop, almost delirious with joy, as she tried to explain the Scottish Parliamentary Election Results to a somewhat bemused Lizzie Bennett who could not grasp why anyone would get so excited about winning a lot of seats: “how many chairs could one person need?” she asked but her question was lost as Roxy gave another whoop, jumped in the air and

wrapped Lizzie in her arms kissing her face ecstatically: “Chrissie Claverhouse beat off that Cowherd woman with the 17 children who trooped after her to every meeting and photo-call, now don't tell a soul how happy that makes me cos Mrs Cowherd was my Party's choice for SMEL,” and Lizzie butted in: “whaddayamean, Smell?” she was picking up Americanisms from the TV which she had befriended when Pride and Prejudice came on and she could follow her namesake's progression through the story; “no, darling it's not a Pong, it's S-M-E-L which are the initials for South Midlothian and Ettrick and Lauderdale,” she laughed and kissed Lizzie delightedly – no-one could accuse her of turpitude now that her Unionist Party had moved into Second Place with their increased tranche of MSPs and would be the Official Opposition to whatever Coalition the nationalists (led by her dear cousin Ginger Goldfish) could cobble together: possibly with the Workers Party (led by another darling cousin Jinty Moncrief), or the Greens (with her sweet cousin Leigh Waters as their Chairperson); indeed the only the only Party Leader she was thankfully not related to was that disgusting and rather smelly Knut Knonsense of the Scottish United Christian Kingdom Independence Together Un-European Party (otherwise referred to as SUCKITUP) - “but let us refect, my sweet, Coffee And is called for methinks, when she suddenly had a thought: “oh I think we should send a note to that poor man Jim, his party, you know, the one everyone forgets about, with the woolly hats and sandals, I think they've lost more seats than they started with – it's some sort of supererogation, and it's like an Act of God in insurance policies, and the poor man is going to have to find bums to not sit in those extra seats, isn't it dreadfully sad, that when some gain, others lose, Life is really so Unfair!” and she pouted, and it was Lizzie's turn to console, which she did so perfectly

that when she sucked Roxy's tongue, and slid her hand inside Roxy's trousers, her lover forgot all about chairs and bums on them and gave herself over to the delights of True Romance!