Just in case nobody knows what a round robin is, the idea is that one person starts off a story, and then passes it on to someone else who takes it a stage further etc, etc.

I'm suggesting for the sake of space that we each only provide a sentence each (could be interesting if we get to have dialogue).

I did think about following the example of the word association game on the other thread and using crates, but I want this to zip along a little quicker, without having to stop because some agent of chaos has nicked the bloody goodies again.

The story can follow any format you wish to in your head, just make sure that your sentence doesn't clash too much with what has gone before.

Oh yes - and no smut please.

Once upon a time, there was a drunken hedgehog.

The drunken hedgehog, whose name was Tim, lived in Venezuela.

Tim's family is ashamed of his twisted spine and his friends often made fun of him.

"No wonder you're an alcoholic - you're living in the wrong country!"

Tim wasn't always from Venezuela, he thought back to why he had decided to move here. Certainly, Danny Glover, singer Harry Belafonte and Cindy Sheehan, Sean Penn, Kevin Spacey, and Naomi Campbell influenced his decision.

Damn that industrial-strength gin!

Tim reflects on his job in the Venezuela gin factory that he has worked in as a taster for the last few years.

"Could have used some ice," he mused.

As Tim reflects, Harry the Poor Penguin sneaks up behind him screaming, "FIRE!!!!"

Tim stumbles over his own four feet as Harry the Poor Penguin ROTFL.

When Harry the Poor Penguin finished laughing, he got up and gave Tim a letter from the owner of the gin factory.

It was the letter A.

"What the hell am I supposed to do with this?" Tim said.

Harry gave him an odd look, wrapped up in a box with a pretty bow, "You could always put it towards your alphabet collection," he said.

(Parenthetic expression added for emphasis)

Tim was startled for a moment and pondered on the untenability of an alcoholic hedgehog in Venezuela, that just received the letter A from a poor penguin named Harry.

He began to feel a headache from all this thinking, so he decided to drown another Gin and see if that helped. It seemed to, so he set off to look for something new to do.

Tim developed a new headache when he fired up his PC and realized that Harry's "A" somehow made him a Seer.

"Blimey," mused Tim, "I'm impressed - what happens if someone gives me an 'X'?"

But all of Tim's alphabetic pontifications would have to wait, for suddenly there was a knock at the door.

"I have some bad news;" said the tall, stoic man standing resolutely in Tim's doorway "It's about your mother, Berta Hedgehog".

Tim went quiet and his blood ran cold in his veins. He'd left the fridge open again.

A huge pool of gooeyness was collecting in the bottom of the fridge, his entire alphabet collection was beginning to melt.

The tall, stoic man at the front door politely cleared his throat to get Tim's attention.

"Ta," said Tim, retrieving his attention from the stranger, "I'd been wondering where that was. Now, what's up with my Dad?"