Victor Meldrew had no idea why the python with rigor mortis was in his flight bag on the Athens plane It was an event he could not control, like the Citroen in the rubbish skip, the dead tomcat in the freezer and the charred remains of a neighbour that turned up one morning on the kitchen table It was insignificant beside the experience with 200 garden gnomes, the rectal examination at Luton airport and the orgy with two dozen pensioners and a lovesick gorilla All part of a pretty average year for a man with one foot in the grave