Would you look at that! (exclaimed Myrtle). It’s the oneth thousandth and twoth hundredth story on this blog. Oneth thousandth and twoth hundredth! That’s amazing!
It’s not the oneth thousandth and twoth hundredth story (interrupted Benjamin). It’s the one thousand and two hundredth story.
You think you know everything! (exclaimed Myrtle). She took a pistol from her mohair handbag and shot Benjamin dead. Bang! Bang! One in the heart and one in the head. (Head first).
That’s for being a know-all! (exclaimed Myrtle even though, by now, Benjamin was incapable of hearing her). Yet another body. What’s one more death in all these oneth thousandth and twoth hundredth stories?
It’s starting to smell around here (observed Horace, who had been present the whole time). In all of these onest thousandst and twost hundredst stories there have been only a couple of funerals.
It’s not the onest thousandst and twost hundredst story (raged Nora, who had also been present the whole time). It’s the onerd thousandrd and tword hundredrd story.
Nora was seen taking a pistol from her mohair handbag. The plot thickens as occasionally happens.