Bill and Sarah were walking side by side down the riverwalk, holding hands, but not each others. The real owners of the hands sat grumpily 800 yards away in a science fiction themed pub called “The Geronimo”, frowning listlessly at the twisted stubs and wondering just how they were going to buy lemon twists now. Sarah leaned over to Bill and planted a kiss on his cheek. Frightened, he waved at her with the hands and fell backwards into the river, where he promptly sank to the bottom, because his pockets were filled with stones and lead sculptures of Marie Antoinette. Sarah quickly cut all of her clothes into ribbons and tied them into a lasso to lower down to him, but the hands tied to the end for buoyancy simply floated on the top like a splatted spider.
Bubbles rose to the surface of the oily water. Sarah gasped and dove hipfirst to rescue her Billybill. She immediately dropped to the bottom of the riverbed, where Bill was getting sucked down through the silt and covering his mouth with his exposed soles. Sarah grabbed him by the eyesockets and dragged him up, but he was stuck. Thinking fast, she twisted her body upside down and ate all the silt out around from him, freeing him, whereupon he floated to the surface.
Four weeks later, they were both rescued from a sea trolley by a man with a parasol decorated with glow in the dark Inspector Closeau decals.