Nigel stormed into the kitchen dragging Leo Sayer by the ear.
“Look what the cat dragged in!” he yelled furiously to himself.
Of course, it was not the real Leo Sayer. Certainly not the rock and roll sensation of yesteryear anyway! He would be far too busy erecting a small township that weekend. It just so happened that it was an imaginary Leo Sayer of which Nigel had been having frequent hallucinations of for the past four months.
There was an appetizing aroma in the air and it was most certainly coming from the oven. Nigel let go of the imaginary Leo Sayer and skipped his merry person over to the kitchen appliance made popular for its efficiency in the process of heating food. He opened the door and the charred remains of a human being fell out onto the vinyl floor with a crispy thud. In the blackened individual's hand was a golden envelope. It was in perfect condition. Nigel picked up the envelope and opened it before pulling out a letter that was folded within. The contents of said letter were written in red crayon:
It is my sad duty to inform you that I am, in fact, the real Leo Sayer. I have travelled four-hundred and seventy-five years into the future to deliver this message to you.
I hope you enjoyed reading my fabulous words.
Nigel fell to his knees and sobbed as the imaginary Leo Sayer knelt beside him to whisper consolatory words. This continued for sixteen agonising minutes.