Its just not cricket

After a long hard days work, I decided to go for a stroll along the beach front. Imagine my surprise when I was met, not by an Ill-mannered gypsy walking his bunch of semi-wild dogs and children, but instead by a man who introduced himself as a "purveyor of finery." Such as silks from Tibet and gems from the African rift valley.

He was joined by his freindly but expendable servant Jenkins.

I asked him for the provenace and also the value of his wares. He explained to me that he was dis-pleased that I had interrupted his game of backgammon and that the goods where not for sale, but that they could be won in a test of cricketing prowess.

Not one to back down from a test of althelic ability, I challenged him to a match.

I took up the batting first, swiftly followed by the merchant himself.

Our freindly game had become a battle to claim the fruits of several years of finery collecting labour.

However when the turn of Jenkins came around, we ran into spot of bother.

His batting skill were second to none, however with one almighty swing of his bat he knocked the ball for six, and unfortuantly for him it landed straght in a very deep bog, which was overgrown with weeds and plants of several varieties.

This is when we explained to him that if the ball could not be found then according to the rules of beach cricket for English gentry his life was forfieght.

Obviously this put Jenkins in some distress and a search to find the ball and ergo save poor Jenkins' life commenced.

We first sat down for some tea, to discuss how best to use the local colonials to find the ball for us. However to our dismay we learnt that there were none to be found. So we had to do the unthinkable and look for it ourselves.

After 45 seconds we decided that the search had proved fruitless.

We consulted the great double-decker oracle to provide us with wisdom of what to do with poor Jenkins.

He first suggested that simply letting poor Jenkins off with a slapped wrist and letting him have something that he called "The benefit of the doubt", was a good plan. However this "Benefit of the doubt" sounded an awful alot like "Mercy" which we all know if only for Europeans.

His second suggestion proved to be more fitting to our tastes.

He suggested......

That we cut him up into very small strips and eat him.

This left us with the difficult problem of finding another person with which to play cricket. A quick phone call to "rent a disposable servant" and all was well however.

His cricketing skills were also extremely good and they led to my inevitable defeat.

Having lost the game and any chance of obtaining any of the finery dealers goods, I beseached him to come and enjoy tea in my official residents. I had just sent the gardener home and was not due for slave whipping duty for a least another twenty minutes. We discussed the state of the empire and problems with the rules of Croquet.

The finery purveyors new servant who for now we shall call "The claw" kept our attention with a display of juggling with sticks.

But alas too soon the time for the master and his servant to abscond came.

I was thrilled to see that even his mode of transportation was of antique persuasion. The caligraphy on the back of his wagon told me that it was at least 950 years old.

An adventure 100,000 years in the making book 2 - A very short story.

After journeying for many miles over a period, I finally arrived upon my island destination. This is where legend dictates that the fabled monster of extreme strength AKA the destroyer of trees was supposed to dwell.

And it didn't take me very long to find it.

I just followed the trail of trees that had obviously been munched upon by some being of supreme size and strength.







Nothing however could have prepared me for the sheer height and strength of the monster as it ran towards me. It was covered in sawdust and wood chippings of several varieties.

"Are you made of wood" It said to me.

"No no, I am entirely vegetable free", I replied.

"I have no use of you if you cannot be eaten, go and amuse yourself elsewhere, or I will plant you and see if you grow." It growled.

I was curious and asked for a display of its might. It pushed the tallest tree in the forest down with a mere wave of its hand.

Needless to say that there was no way in hell I was going to fight this thing as it would no doubt end in my certain death.

So after engaging in dialouge with it I found that it had to go to the mainland because it had eaten all of its old growth trees, and the new ones it had planted where not big enough yet to provide a stable diet.

I concuted a plan, involving me, the monster and a large supply of miracle grow which I would supply from the future, in return for the promise that the monster would not go to the mainland. (Because if the locals found out that I had collected the commission and not actually killed the monster needless to say that they would not be happy).

So everyone lived happily ever after except my trusty stead, who was squahed by the falling tree, and the elves who still were enslaved.

An adventure 100,000 years in the making.



After many years of painstaking labour my time-machine was finally complete.
My army of enslaved elf technicians busied themselves with the final tweeking of the machine before the ultimate test of sending me back in time to the stone-age.





Aided by my head geek, whose steadfast geekiness had proved invaluable in the construction of the time machine and also in keeping the elves in line.

I had found him eating worms and conversing with chickens in a bunker in Vietman.

Needless to say I took pity upon his eating disorder and was amused by his clucking, so I added him to my army of servants, and he worked his way up to the guy that whips all the other slaves until I discovered his knack for temporal mechanics and physics. Then I moved him to the laboratory, (I still dont pay him though).





My elves informed me that the time machine was ready. So donning my space suit I took pleasure in one finally cup of tea.


Setting off to the machine I was breathless with anticipation.


My body was warped and bent into a variety of amusing animal shapes by the force of the machine as it hurled be back to the stone age. I have pictures but they are embarresing, and we would not want to have those up here would we.






I was met by a strangely dressed cave man, who looked at me in a contemplating way.



There were other friendly natives as well, I was impressed by the lack of cannibalism that they displayed.



Soon, in my conversing with the locals, I learned of a hideous beast that destroyed the trees that some of the people used for their homes. I vowed to go and slay the beast for them, In return for a modest commission.



This required a journt upon the high seas, grabbing a trusty stead I set out upon the mission of liberating these people from the terror of the monster.

To be continued....