So I escaped, I knotted sheets together... to make a moped

Still under the influence of God, or Stephen Fry as he likes to be known these days, the bad solicitors obligingly replied to the good solicitor's fax requesting the occupation under license and agreed to the terms, but God couldn't influence some of the contents of this fax or the stupidity of another party in this sorry tale, which the contents related.

Earlier, Mr & Mrs Vendor had mumbled hesitantly down the phone to the bad solicitors when they had called to put the good solicitor's occupation under license plan to them. 'What was that you said?' said Barry the stand-in, 'Something about furniture?'
Mr Vendor was looking at his shoes now and Mrs Vendor was nervously twirling her hair around her finger. 'We haven't moved our furniture out yet.' murmured Mr Vendor.
Barry the stand-in's sense of shame and anxiety, which God had freshly installed in him upon his involvement in the tale, intensified and he felt a flush creep across his face, as he considered how he was going to report back to the good solicitor, that although they as the vending parties had been working together towards a completion date of Friday 21st September for over two weeks, the property was not actually ready for the eager purchasing client to take possession.
'We could have it cleared for Monday, suggested Mrs Vendor.
'Oh dear' said Dave the stand-in, who was listening into the conversation. 'The good solicitor isn't going to be happy and neither is his client.'

The good solicitor stared at the fax and took in yet another tale of incompetence and disorganisation from the bad solicitors and began to weep. Knowing his eager client had taken the day off work to move on Friday 21st and that a friend had done likewise and travelled across from Gloucester (the provinces) to assist on 'Moving Day', he picked up the phone and dialled the eager client's number.

The eager client wasn't happy, but remained sanguine and resigned himself to yet another week of waiting, as he advised the good solicitor that Monday was no good to him as a moving day due to him having a job to go to and that his life was not entirely dedicated to the simple act of acquiring and moving to a new flat. No, it would have to be the following weekend and another week at work would have to pass before he could finally begin the process of taking occupation of the flat he so longed for.

But will the week pass without further incident? Will the flat be cleared for occupation by the following weekend, finally permitting an exchange of contracts? Will the process of living under licence take place and run smoothly until all registrations are complete and the property is transferred to the eager client's control? All will be revealed as we continue the saga of, The Bad Solicitors of London Town.