Just as long as:
a) our MC gets his head(/act/balls) together and sets up a cosy new home with Heidi and Kathy ... off the back of which domestic bliss they rapidly establish a flourishing high-end restaurant (possibly the New Hard Cock Cafe? - or something more exotic, like L'Intercosteria "High-Cat", or "Your Dinner's in the Dog"?), maybe with Lily as head chef,
b) a gigantic tipper truck comes along and unloads a world-record consignment of "gravel" on top of Morto Mortadelli while he's in the middle of yet another devious confab with Slimeball Slim, the all-purpose slug (.... in mortal fear, rooted to the ground as he spots the skies suddenly darken above him, Morto-Morto compulsively grabs Slimbo's neck (slither & squeal as he might) in a thunderous headlock .... and thereby ensures a gravelly double doom),
c) Mandy finds a mate, such as the groovy "I-fix-everything" mechanic she and her (stepdad, dad, lover, line manager, roommate, team coach, boss or whatever the hell he is to her) ran into on their fridge-fixing road trip up country, .... also adopts her frustrated aunt as her delighted mother, ... and with all that new energy coursing through her veins and spirit, sets up a thriving erotic & general fiction initiative of her own, and so - finally! - can pull in her bottom lip for the rest of her life,
and
d) Lanie never died, she just found a cooler, less neurotic guy with less of an all-consuming paranoid sex rage ... and managed to cover up all the evidence, including faking her own death to the MC ... all with remarkable success, until the reveal in the final chapter ...
... that'll be fine.
