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Once upon a time, there was a young lady with long golden hair. Because of her hair, and in common with the long-established fairytale tradition of not calling children by the name they were christened with (which in this case was Josephine), her parents called her Goldilocks. Because of her reputation locally, everyone else called her Goldifucks, though only when out of earshot of her father, who was rather large and intimidating. Being possessed of very little brain and no skills other than an impressive ability to deep throat, Goldifucks lived at home with her parents despite having reached the age of almost twenty-three. Home was a small cottage on the edge of a large forest.

A little way down the road was a large house that had been divided up into three small apartments all sharing a communal kitchen and dining room. Whenever they came up for sale (which was often), estate agents invariably described them as "deceptively spacious", because the outside of the house deceived one into thinking that the flats would be quite big when in fact they were desperately small. Currently, and by the kind of bizarre coincidence that only happens in fairytales and bad thrillers, the people that occupied the three flats all had remarkably similar sounding surnames. On the top floor lived the founder of an obscure religious cult who styled himself Father Behr. Below him was an ex-nun who went by the name of Baer. She had been excommunicated some years ago for misuse of convent property, specifically a number of large, thick candles, but needless to say people still called her Mother Baer. And finally, the ground floor flat housed an inbred lout ...

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