Turold Ditchlouse went off down the lane to the old dung heap. He began to carefully walk around it looking at the mud. After he had moved round it looking at the mud he found a sheeps bone. He picked the sheeps  bone up and waved it. Instantly he was transported to a far future just as happened last time. Blaff! the air made that sound again as he arrived in the far future. Blaff! He was standing in the throne room of an enormous spotted sentient wall hanging. Lo! This was the Monarch Zorgmerp and Turold went forwards bending on one knee in courteous deference to the great speckled sentient wall hanging. ‘What kingdom is this your majesty?’ he asked meekly. ‘In the far future Turold Ditchlouse your land will be ruled by spotted wall hangings and there will be battenburg to eat everyday, also the worship of a large shoe shall have become the manifest religion’ and the Monarch Zorgmerps voice was mighty and extraordinarily low-pitched for such a wall hanging. ‘What about pease pottage?’ meekly asked Turold. ‘Oh there is plenty of battenburg nobody needs pease pottage anymore!’ Zorgmerp answered. ‘Have you seen the Whore of Babylon around in this future?’ Turold could scarcely contain the avid interest in his voice. ‘In this future the world itself now rotates on the Whore of Babylons head’  the monarch wall hanging spoke. ‘Look out this window and behold the rotation of the world!’ and Turold obeyed seeing that indeed the world was rotating just as if on the Whore of Babylons head. ‘Fancy some battenburg oh smelly little man?’ the monarch offered. ‘If you would beg my forgiveness I must get back to my pease pottage’ and Turold left Zorgmerp the giant spotty wall hanging who ruled the distant future.


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