It was common knowledge that Terry belonged in Parliament. He was an ugly toad after all and licked his lips with his toad-tongue whenever a pensioner tripped over the high curb outside his manor home. When his Parliament Car came at 5 after 9 to collect him he would smack a passing child on the face and laugh all the way to Parlyment (he oft' forgot how to spell it).
Parlyment was a big building with those nice bricks and Terry would rather enjoy licking the bricks with his toad tongue during morning rather than going to first session. 'Ah! Lovely bricks from a good family' he whispered to the bricks as he licked them. It was a special relationship built on faith and the utmost trust.
After morning-licking he gobbled the five-course lunch and left the trimmings for his darling wife Margerine. She was delighted at today's trimmings and kissed her husband's feet in thanks. 'Thanking you! Thanking you!' she wailed aloud. Indeedy, Terry was a good man. It was known more than anything can be known and some had written it in books even.
After happenings and other confodafoodlings, he paused for his afternoon nap in his favourite rocking chair and woke late for afternoon session. 'Where are my robes?' He shouted angrily (unhappy to be woken, of course). 'My robes are not in their right and usual place...'
Oh no, actually they were already on him. Silly man! 'Hahahah', he laughed. 'What am I like!'
So and so, already in his bestest robes he walked into the Parlyment big room to deliver a speech upon the matter of giving monies to the poor losers in the dumps. Terry opened his lips (which were hiding his toad tongue) and said... 'No, all this money is mine. Hahahahahah!'
And as luck wouldn't have it, a lovely brick from a good family fell from the ceiling and boinked him on the head killing him dead. And then Parlyment argued over what to do with the body before going home early for din dins without coming to a proper conclusion.