The fifth sign of apocalypse is here. My cousin Susanna, known throughout her youth for swearing and changing her hair colour every twenty-two minutes and for sticking things through her ears over the bath and for generally listening to the Cure and growling at everyone – yes, that cousin Susanna – has just joined the committee of her local playgroup… There’s only one final sign left to come – the sleeping of the lion with the lamb, and the lamb pulling out a chainsaw and then eating the lion’s fleshy entrails. Then it’s judgment day. We’re all doomed.
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