Look here, I think I should track Zoe again for a while. Not forever, of course. There are limits. I haven’t bothered to track her for some time, so I’ll bring you up to date briefly: Zoe married Steve, had her hair cut, has yet to smell the jar, made cupcakes without bringing me one, and has a bun in the oven. She now wears trousers with elastic waistbands, as is the custom in these parts. I have taken the liberty of naming her child "Christopher Robin Meriwether." If it's a girl I'll call her "Whitecake Withchocofrosting."
Today Zoe bought a fruitcake and it smelled like canned baked beans.
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She's married now? Why does she keep sleeping with me, then? I'm not called Steve. Such a common name.
Are you sure she's pregnant? Elasticated slacks do not a pregnancy make. Maybe she's just reeeaaalllyy fat. The cupcakes are a bit of a give-away there. And that would also explain why she ended up with a Steve. Poor girl.
See what you miss when you're not paying attention? You're obviously out of practice with this whole tracking business. Straighten up and fly right, young lady, or I shall be forced to cut out the middleman and stalk her directly...
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