One day, you're walking down the street when - BAM! A breezeblock falls down from the building site you're passing and whumps you on the head. Your head swims for a second or two, and then you get up and continue on your way. Before you can go too far a big-ass convertible starts kerb-crawling you. The woman behind the wheel is an absolute knock-out. Waist-length blonde hair, big boobs, blue eyes... she wolf-whistles you. You turn around, just to make sure she's not aiming for someone else, and she giggles.

"John, you silly! I'm looking at you!"

"Do I know you?" You ask.

"No. I'm Venus. You're pleased to meet me, most guys are, what with my being the goddess of love & sex and all."

Suavely, you reply: "hu-wuh-wuh-huh?"

"I hate to tell you this, but you're in a coma. That breezeblock caused some serious brain damage."

"But I feel..."

"Fine? Honey, no-one gets a twenty-kilo concrete block upside the head without a scratch on them. Look over there."

You follow the line along which she's pointing and you see your unconscious frame being loaded into an ambulance, surrounded by voyeuristic bystanders and disappointed ambulance-chasers.

"Worst part is, this was a mistake. For the first time ever, something's happened that wasn't fated to be. We don't know what to do. Dad's thrown a terrible tantrum."

"Dad?"

"Zeus, honey. Look, we figure that you need to be compensated for this un-fated happening. Why don't you take a ride with me?"