Forks 08

This is the forks’ swan song, their end piece, their last hurrah, their final gesture. Finis, good-bye, adieu. They are now riding off into the sunset having completed their last act. They're going back to stabbing sausages at barbecues (except for the one that got it's tines bent in the flames of Igor's weed wand and will never stab anything again) with only their memories of this brief period of blip fame.

(I wanted to say forking off into the sunset but Igor said it was rude and Mollymay might grass on me to Mum!!)