Darlek First 11

Deestroygital By De Warrigal

We are currently on Althus 5 a planet that circles Merak a star in Ursa Major about 80 light years from Earth. It’s great to be on a planet after all that time in space.  Althus 5 is a big planet with very few people. You see children are hard to have and women out number men by 10 to 1. The thing is that the men aren’t all that interested in sex and only do it at Christmas or birthdays and even then only if everything is in alignment with the Gods or should I say the God, Gordas. Gordas is the one god, the true god. I am the light, the truth and the way Gordas would say. Now you and I know that Gordas is really Gordon O’Donnell, the astrophysicist from another dimension but never let the truth get in the road of a good story.

Anyway Belinda and I are staying at Andy Smiths place, well actually they call him “Randy” Andy as he has had 3 children from 8 wives over 10 years. Randy’s two head wives, Zig and Zag,  take Belinda to the cricket as on Althus 5 generally only women go to the games and only women play cricket. If men go they are treated like sex symbols and are constantly taunted and many have numerous sexual propositions put to them like “Nice buns honey, is that a gun in your pocket, wanna come home with me baby for a good time” and other rude suggestions.

I get to go out with the “boys” to have my nails done, a hair appointment then coffee and croissants then off to a bloke flick staring Grew Hant. As I am walking down the street with the “boys” I suddenly realise how good cricket is. I mean I can take a few taunts and the idea of seeing a Grew Hant movie is turning my stomach over. I make a feeble excuse like “I’ve got a headache” and jump a cab to the ground.

After a few wolf whistles, a couple of pinches on the bum and some business cards stuffed in my G King undies I join the girls in the stand. “So you came after all Sandy?” says Zig suggestively. “Oh yes, love my cricket” I lie brilliantly, “Silly mid on in already?” I announce informatively to which the girls laugh, “No” says Zag “this is the pre game entertainment” causing all around to know that I am the Sergeant Schultz of cricket and that ‘I know nuthink’.

Just as the boredom of a whole day at the cricket smacks me in the face my phone rings. Saved by the bell, for zark sake. . It’s Catherine the central computer “Sandy we’ve got company, you and young Bel better get back fast”. As disappearing in public is against space protocol we go around to the back of the grandstand and insert a finger in our mouths. See when you get a SPIT, Small Personal Interplanetary Teleporter, in goes into your mouth on the inside of the cheek. The SPIT reads you as a list of particles, decodes you then transports you to the responder and reassembles you instantly.  This is a great and complex piece of fiction.

We enter Henry’s room. Henry is the navigational computer. “Sandy, a message is coming in as a hologram from the Captain of the ICCB destroyer Enterprise Bargaining” Henry relates rather nervously.

The hologram appears. Yuk. It’s some form of mental man with a laser cannon sticking out of his head and a cricket bat in his hand “Salutations, My name is Captain Ion Chappell of the ICCB first XI,  please be prepared to die, your ship is about to be  blown to smithereens and I want to watch it burn, eradicate, eradicate…..”

I can hear voices in my head, its Dad, he’s calling me “Use the farce Luke, er, um, oops, sorry, Sandy, use the farce”. “I think you will find that it’s exterminate, exterminate” I say stupidly and with that the farce takes the 38B into a deep spiral exit manoeuvre and out to the other side of the star. Using the forces of the star and being hidden it then closes in on the rear of the destroyer. Belinda pipes in “Fire when ready I think the saying is” with which a laser cannon fires hitting the IUD and blowing it out of the sky, if there was one. Gee, some things is space just never cease to amaze me.

Thought to be an exposure of Hung with Tutu’s support *

The Crickmanistani’s have a droid with them that was a coffee dispenser on one of the levels of the Death Ball. Well anyway, this droid got friendly with, I mean really friendly with if you know what I mean, one of the design droids on board and has a copy of plans of the Death Ball. Well Helvi analysed them to find that there is a weak spot in the design in a location called the Upper Inner Thigh, apparently very tender and painful if struck.

So here’s the plan. Me and Helvi are going to teleport into the control room and take out the Detractor beam while Belinda and George hit the Upper Inner Thigh with a “Bouncer” which is a bomb. So we break the beam, get the zark outta there and blow the Death Ball up. Yeah, I know weak as but worked for George Lucas.

Belinda and George jettison themselves in an Escape pod just before we dock. Don’t ya just love how spaceships that travel in deep space always have escape pods, I mean where ya gonna go? Helvi and I beam ourselves into the control room. In a split second Helvi takes out two guards and the control door with laser canon fire, gees, no wonder Gez eats all his veggies. We roll behind a bank of computers and let the return fire go over our heads. My beautiful creams are turning beige to honey colour at the moments and I think the nanobots are struggling to keep up.

Helvi pops her head round the corner and with two shots takes out another two guards. There’s three left plus, you guessed it, the evil Lord Deaf Vision. Laser cannon fire is rapidly being deployed in our direction. With that Helvi winks and dives across the floor rolling and firing in the one action, I mean man, she is poetry in motion. Helvi takes a hit and has her arm blown off but momentarily she keeps firing.

Suddenly it’s quiet. A voice calls out “Sandy, just you and me now, come on out and lets fight to the death.” “Sorry” I reply meekly “I’ve got a bit of a cold and I don’t feel very well at the moment, how bout a rain-check?” Zeus! Where that came from I have no idea. “Come out Sandy, it’s time to be a man and fight, swords, to the death, just me and you. If you win you get to leave otherwise your ship and crew are mine.”

I stand up and see Lord Vision standing there, resplendent in his black armour and helmet. “Ur, um sorry old boy, but I don’t have a sword” and just as those stupid words fall out of my mouth Vision throws me a sword. “Take guard” he cries and charges at me with incredible power and speed knocking me to the ground. Luckily I used to watch Errol Flynn as a youngster and I just put my sword up in time. Just then my phone rings, I mean mobiles are a pain aren’t they, always ringing when its inconvenient.

I pull the phone out of my pocket and answer “Hello, Sandy speaking” I respond rather nonchalantly.

“It’s Gordon here Sandy. I’m in the pub with Emmjay and the boys and me what to see how you are getting on?” Gordon asks

“Well Gordon, I’m a bit busy at the moment. Lord Vision and I are having a sword fight to the death and right now he’s lying on top of me trying to cut my throat.” I inform.

“Sandy, you joker, look Algernon wants to talk to you”

“Hey Sandy, get back to Earth by New Years eve man, the bus is booked to the holy grail, and we need a priest to bless the pitch and then to absolve us of all our sins on the way home” says Algernon “Gez wants to say something”

“Hey Sandy, I made up a name for the AFL team in WA, The Fremantle Lamingtons, get it, funny eh” scoffs Gez.

“Can you put Gordon on I really have to go” I beg.

“Gordon here Sandy. Look to really piss Vision off just use the farce. Think of the stupidest joke you ever heard and throw him across the room. See ya”

Hmmm, stupid joke, I know, Horse walks into a bar and barman says Why the long face? I mean as if a horse would understand English, and what’s he doing in a bar anyway and what if the horse isn’t over 18? Go away Vision. And with that Lord Vision is hurled across the room smashing into a computer terminal and impaling himself on his sword. I go up to him. He’s breathing hard. “Sandy take my helmet off, I’m dying and I want you to know me before I die.” I unscrew the helmet. “Dad?”, “Sandy”, “Dad?” “Yes Sandy it’s me John.” Vision reveals. “But you’re dead” I assert. “No son, I faked my death to become an intergalactic umpire with the ICCB. Now look I’m dying there must be many questions you want to ask me?” Vision says. “Well, remember when I was 9 and all I wanted was a guitar and you got me Understanding Chaos Theory, why did you do that? And then when I was 13 I wanted a 7’6”Gordon and Smith surfboard and you got me Quantum Mechanics for Beginners, why was that?” “Yes, yes, parenting’s a tough gig, but Sandy don’t you want to know how to win at horse racing, predicting lotto and the truth about Gordon?” bleats Vision with one final breath. “No not really…..”

And there ends the first part of The Father O’Way Chronicles. The next part will probably be called “The Umpire Raises His Finger” followed by “The Return of the Ball” if you get my drift and of course it will totally meaningless as usual.

Cheers all merry seasons greetings

Hung and Tutu.

* This photograph will have a strange resonance for those who went to the David Byrne concerts recently.

** I would like to express my great appreciation for Hung’s masterful chronicles, and Warrigal’s digital wizardry – together making Father O’Way live, breathe and generally piss fart around !  Good on you !

Emm

Nimmow Rescue

Digitally Rescued by Warrigal

We have just hit space debris where the planet Joon should be and I’m now at the controls of a spaceship, controls that remind me of my faithful Toyota Camry. Henry, the navigational computer, is busy attempting to prevent the ship from being damaged and I am turning the ship as hard as possible to the right to get the zark outta here, wherever here is. The Hevli-tastic is standing next to me with my companion Belinda. Every one looks worried so I try to lighten the moment by saying something incredibly stupid like “Don’t worry you guys. Learnt this on my uncles farm in New England, anyway I have farcical powers”. Suddenly the ship rights itself and calm is restored on the ship. A voice pops up in my head, its Gordon “Use the farce Sandy, the farce is strong within you”.

Henry speaks through the intercom “Look Sandy, there’s a small moon over there, lets orbit it for protection”. Henry has now resumed control of the ship. Somehow using my farcical powers I have managed to put a hold on the current situation. “Look, Helvi, Belinda, what’s that on that asteroid on the left?” We all peer out of the control room to see an asteroid floating past with a bio. It’s a cricket picket inside the bio with a game going on. What the…? “I’ll send the Nimmow to rescue them”interjects Henry.

The Nimmow, with the Kipper and Jilligan set off to the asteroid and return with the battle weary cricket harden Joonians. “Hey man”says the first one on board still wearing his batting pads“I mean I was on 99 and heading for a century when these two goons in pink chiffon blouses turn up with laser cannons and say they are here to rescue us” “Welcome mate er, um, fella, whatever I’m Sandy from Earth and we have picked you up” I blurt not really knowing what one says in circumstances like this “Hey Sandy, dude, my name is Shah Latif Abdul Bahi or Slab for short as my mates reckon I can down a slab any day. I’m from Crickmanistan and this is our first eleven. We knew we was in trouble with the ICCB so we legged it to the Asteroid Oval, beautiful ground to play cricket on don’t you think?” Hmmm, my obvious weaknesses, an intense dislike for cricket and zarking acronyms. “Fabulous I’m sure” I reply as diplomatically as possible.

As the others enter into the control room Helvi grabs my arm “Sandy, that ain’t no moon” “Now Helvi there is no such word as ain’t” I reply in my sanctimonious parish priest voice. “Sandy, that AIN’T no moon, that’s an ICCB Death Ball, a genuine six stitcher” I focus my full attention on the ball and realise that Helvi is telling the truth “Henry, reverse swing or whatever I’m supposed to say to get us outta here” I bark “Sorry Sandy, we seem to be caught in a detractor beam, we can’t move, we will dock with the Death Ball in approximately 1 hour” “Detractor beam?”I reply “Yes Sandy. It locks onto the ship preventing it from moving and it makes very disparaging remarks and the ship and it’s crew, I’m feeling very hurt at the moment” Oh for zark sake, now Henry is telling me that we will be docking onto the Death Ball and he is upset at a bit of sledging, you know space never ceases to amaze me. “Anyone with an idea of what to do better speak up now?” “I know”says Belinda “Lets play a straight bat…..”

ICCB Deathball

Interstellar Off Break by Warrigal

The mood on the ship has changed since Gordon’s message about the Intergalactic Cricket Control Board’s announcement that they have lost patience with worlds that aren’t paying their fees. The crew are now in combat mode, all armoured and carrying weapons. Troops have entered the village and river traffic has increased as troops and other military gear is ferried around the ship. Even the Nimmow has morphed into a patrol boat and the Kipper and Jilligan have their armour and weapons matched perfectly to their skirts and chiffon blouses.

The most remarkable change is in Helvi. George informs me that Helvi is really a killing machine capable of hand to hand combat, excellent small arms skills and sword mastery. Helvi calls into the manor. “Sandy I need to teach you the ways of the Farce. You can channel the farce as your father could. You have phenomenal farcical powers” Helvi instructs. Boy, Dad, my uni professor of a father had some mystical powers. I mean, shit, he never told me. “But Helvi” I bemoan “I can’t fight anyone, it’s against my religion, you know, St Generic Brand”. “Oh Sandy, stop wimping. The time is now and the one is you, you have to stand firm and fight the evil Lord Deaf Vision.” Says Helvi, the killing machine.

Helvi places a glass of water on the table. “Now Sandy I want you to use the Farce through your mind and put the glass out in the kitchen” says Helvi. “Go on Sandy, you can do anything” says Belinda supportively. “Now just think of something or someone really stupid then tell the glass to return to the kitchen.” Helvi asks. Okay, man, I’m almost shitting myself but if that’s what I’ve gotta do then okay. I let my mind wander and think, who’s stupid? what’s stupid? That guy in the pub, the one that hardly speaks and usually stares blankly at the wall, Hung something, yeah that’s right Hung One On from that band Head Cleaner, what a stupid name. Glass, to the kitchen. Suddenly the glass raises off the table and smashes into the kitchen wall splattering glass and water all over the place. “Sandy, not so hard, but you did it, you did it” relieves Helvi as Belinda shrieks with joy. Gee two women at once is hard work.

So we are about to hit the SPEW and who knows where Lord Deaf Vision will be but all I have to do is think of something stupid and use the Farce. You know as funny as that seems I’ve actually been really good at stupidity all my life. Maybe this is my calling after all. My high school teacher always used to say “Whitey” Don’t know why he called me that when my names Sandy, “Whitey, it’s one of the great puzzles of the universe, what are you actually doing here?” In my mind my answer was “Fucked if I know Noel” Noel was his first name and a no no to call him that. My answer would always come out “Yes Mr Meadows, whatever you say sir”.

We are currently in the SPEW, the Space Particle Emissions Wavetable and have just jumped to Joon. Henry calls on the intercom “Sandy, you better get here fast something’s up”. Belinda and I race across the green and into the control room. We look out into space and there is debris everywhere. “Active deflector shields” cries Henry, “Sandy, hit the brakes” Henry yells. “What brakes?” I sing out, I thought I didn’t need to know anything about flying this thing. “Sit in the chair and hit the pedal on the left” Henry screams. I hit the chair and there is a steering wheel with two pedals on the floor. To my left is a floor shift with the letters PRND2L and some other levers behind the wheel. Hang on, a car, you mean to tell me I’m in the driver seat of a car, this is farcical alright, mighty complex fiction. “Do a yuey, a u-turn fast” screams Henry.

Nimmow riding the Pleiades spatio-temporal tube

Warrigal does another swell job

The manor has a room that has two chairs and no window. Belinda and I joke about the room and we call it “The Cruel Room”. Buggered if I know why but we get a good laugh out of it. Helvi has shown us how the room works. You enter the room and sit down. The entire room them vanishes and you are sitting outside the ship, well, not really but it simulates the experience. At first it’s pretty scary but you get used to it after a while and it becomes a real buzz.  As soon as you stand up the room returns. While you are in the room you ask Catherine, the central computer, any question you like. The answer then gets shown on the far wall in a multimedia type format of narration, text, video and sound, it’s wicked.

So as we are headed to Joon for the cricket one day final so Belinda and I decide to get a low-down on our destination. Joon is a small planet about the size of Mars and is found in the group of stars called Pleiades or the Seven Sisters. Joon rotates around a star called Atlas and takes approximately 4 years to get in a full orbit. Joon is mainly water with a scattering of islands. Everyone on Joon loves cricket and it plays a large part in the culture. All nations play off for the final which the whole planet shuts down for. This years final is between the Bilbobs and the Aryans. Joon by the way is 425 light years from earth. Henry, the navigational computer, tells me that once we hit the SPEW it will take us 8 and a half hours to reach.

The Aryans are a very quiet sort of race, non drinking and very respectful whereas the Bilbobs have a huge cerebration around the cricket game. They dance, listen to funky music, smoke cannabis and drink rum by the bucket full. However the best part is the spit roast. They cook these animals that resemble goats called geni on spits called tals, so a common expression in the villages is “Hey man, how’s ya geni tals doing?” to which you answer “Cookin dude”

Helvi has been fantastic and has orientated us to ship life. Even Catherine has warmed up a bit. I’m starting to like this. The manor is beautifully appointed to a very high standard and the food is fantastic. Belinda and I take turns to help George with cooking and even some earthling habits are starting to appear in his character. Pity it will end when I have to teleport down to the surface of Joon and watch a stupid cricket game.

One thing is starting to worry me though. In the paper there are stories starting to appear about some trouble brewing with the cricket board. Bloody administrators always sticking their noses in where they are wanted.

There’s a knock at the door. It’s Catherine, “Sandy, Belinda, I’ve just had a call from Gordon. He wants to see you in the Cruel Room”. “But Gordon’s on earth” I reply knowing as usual I’ll be wrong. “By hologram Sandy, c’mon,  he said its urgent” The three of us trundle off to the room and sit down. The walls and ceiling vanish and a hologram appears in the centre of the room. It’s Gordon and he’s in the Ladies Lounge at the Pigs Arms as I can see Tutu and Glenda in the background discussing genetic modification. “Hey guys” says Gordon “Look something’s up. The President of the Intergalactic Cricket Control Board (ICCB), Sunil Gavitron,  has joined forces with the evil Lord Deaf Vision  and are threatening war if some of the planets don’t start paying their cricket fees, Joon is one of those planets”. War over cricket fees, surely not I think to myself. “So Sandy” Gordon continues “it’s up to you to defend these worlds. You see Sandy I haven’t been quite straight with you. There is this invisible power in the universe called the Farce and you Sandy have the ability to channel the Farce and use it for good against evil” Oh shit, what is happening here, this wasn’t the deal, I mean I’m a lover not a fighter. “So Sandy head for Joon and protect them and may the farce be with you…..”

The Secret at The Centre of The Universe

Analgesia by Mirriyuula

“When space and time are curved, telling a story non-sequentially hardly matters” …….. incompetent PA editor

I walk into the Bats Droppings. It feels soft underfoot and aromatic, er, um, the pub that is. Michael the publican gives me a warm greeting “Welcome Father, pint?” “Thanks Michael, where’s that accent from?” I ask. “It’s Welsh Father. It’s a Welsh publican’s voice from the village of Llanfairpwllgwyngyllgogerychwyrndrobwllllantysiliogogogoch.” “Pardon!” I exclaim foolishly, “Llanfairpwllgwyngyllgogerychwyrndrobwllllantysiliogogogoch” says Michael, “It means St. Mary’s Church in the hollow of white hazel near a rapid whirlpool and the Church of St. Tysilio near the red cave.” Oh for fuck sake, some people just can’t grip reality, I mean wouldn’t something like Woodville be easier on all an sundry.

There’s a poster on the wall, ‘Playing Saturday nite Dave Oarsfield, singer, songwriter, historian and anthropologist’ “So what’s this Dave guy like?” I ask Michael. “He’s good Father, plays a few tunes and will have a chat to anyone willing. Does all of the good Beatles songs” says Michael. Oh well that will take all of two minutes. “Yes, Belinda and I will have to come over, but Michael, you’re all droids aren’t you? I mean how long are we in space for? The food and stuff how do we get that?” “So many questions, so little time” jokes Michael. “Now let’s see. The ship is self-sustaining. We need to get water sometimes but virtually everything is made on board. I’ll get one of the droids to take you to the farm bio, it’s up the river. Yes, all droids last time I looked” Michael laughs heartily as he feels his crotch. I like this droid, er, um, guy.

“B, b, but?” I stutter trying to take in the enormity of it all. “Well” injects Michael “ We have evolved over millions of years. Gordon brought in the basic building blocks and programmed us to evolve into what we are today. Each generation of droid builds the next generation and so on. The droids are programmed to respond to your movements as part of the SNAP program, you know to make you feel as normal as possible.” Acronyms Jesus Christ I am sick of bloody acronyms

So after a few pints and a lot of thinking time I head back to the manor. George answers the door “Dinner will be at 1930 hrs Sir, oops Sandy. The ladies are in the sitting room”. “Wow Belinda, you look fabulous, well done Helvi” I spurt. “It’s easy when you have someone wonderful to work on Sandy” Helvi says. “Helvi?” “Yes Sandy” “Look George said before that the ship had 299 droids on board, I mean why not go the whole hog and add one more for 300?” I muse. “Well there is a 300^th droid Sandy but we left him on Earth.” Helvi replies. “Why is it so?” I ask doing my Jules impersonation. “Well, if I tell you, you must promise not to tell anyone” Belinda and I nod impulsively wanting to know more. “Well” Helvi continues “The droid is filling in for a person while that person is carrying out some very dangerous work”. “And who and what is that?” Belinda prompts. “Come close you two and I’ll whisper it to you” Helvi says as she draws us in and her eyes narrow. “It’s psst psst psst psst and he is doing psst psst psst” “What? You’re joking” I exclaim unable to control myself. “Merv is a droid and the real Merv is Malcolm Turnbull’s image consultant…..”. And so the plot thickens.

Gordon sees danger… “What’s that ? A head ?”

Initial Massage by Wirruulia

Drinking at the Bat’s Droppings is great. Michael the publican has a real larrikin streak in him and Dave the guitar man plays all my favourites, once I programmed him with my disc, Band-in-a-Droid. Michael has arranged for me to visit the tropical island bio with two of the crew, the Kipper and his mate Jilligan. They were the strangest looking droids I’d ever seen, cross dressers by the look of them. “Only takes three hours” said the Kipper while Jilligan just smiled and looked goofy.

We set off from the village. Belinda said she would go another time as her and the Helvi-tastic were going to see a chick flick at the cinema. So along with Zeb I boarded the SS Nimmow. Some of this stuff seemed so familiar it was spooky. As we headed up the river I could hear the Kipper humming a tune. “What tune is that Kipper?” I enquired. “Oh, it’s just a song I like to sing when we are out in the boat, I made it up” the Kipper replied. “Sing it for us, go on, its only us lads and the dog” I prompted. “Okay then Sandy it goes like this”.

Just sit right back and you’ll hear a tale,

A tale of a fateful trip

That started from this village port

Aboard this tiny ship.

The mate was a mighty sailing man,

The Kipper brave and sure.

A passenger set sail that day

For a three hour tour, a three hour tour.

The weather started getting rough,

The tiny ship was tossed,

If not for the courage of the fearless crew

The Nimmow would be lost, the Nimmow would be lost.

The ship set ground on the shore of this, bio desert isle

With Jilligan

The Kipper too,

A bag of hair and a knife,

A muesli bar

A compressor and jerry can,

Here on Jilligan’s Isle.

Hmmm, hardly reassuring but vaguely familiar is some strange sort of way. Jilligan approaches me “Here Sandy, you and Zeb will need these”. Safety lines, what in the fuck will we need these for? “When we hit the tube it gets pretty rough and then there’s the membrane”. “The membrane?” I ask. “Yeah, the membrane holds the river water from the sea water, you know, Glad Wrap” smirks Jilligan.

As we approach the tube the current starts to accelerate. The pace of the boat quickens along with my pulse. I double check our lines and I can see the top of the tube is clear. I can see the stars as clear as a bell then suddenly, bang! The pace is electric. Waves of water pound over the bow. I am scared out of my wits. The nanobots in my jocks will be working overtime tonight. “Prepare to come about” called the Kipper. What the fuck does that mean? The ship groans under immense pressure. I hear the keel scrape against the membrane and then thump goes a pole into my head and I drop to the deck, unconscious.

I wake up on a beach. Zeb is licking my face and the SS Nimmow is prostrate up on the sand. I can smell bacon cooking and the aroma of coffee meanders through the air. The Kipper sings out “C’mon Sandy, breakfast is ready”. Breakfast,  last thing I remember was scrapping the membrane. “Sorry mate a mast broke and you got hit on the head. Henry is sending the rescue party but Belinda is dirty as you were on a promise, whatever that means, wanna see the engine?” the Kipper blurts. Engines are about as interesting as cricket but I go along with it plus the bacon sarnie and coffee is hitting the spot. “Yeah, sure, where is it?” I ask.

The Kipper takes us along a track into the island, so this is Jilligan’s Island I think to myself. The Kipper points to a tunnel. “That’s the Urethra” he bellows, not so loud mate me head hurts. “You go down the Urethra and you find the WEE”. Hang on a minute, is he having a lend of me. We enter the tunnel and it’s rather short. At the end of the tunnel is a hatch and we enter. It opens into the top section of an huge building. We must be twenty stories high. Whoa I am feeling a little wonky. At the bottom of the building is a very large white box shaped object with some indescribable objects attached to it. “That’s the WEE” says the Kipper “The Wireless Electric Engine”. He points to the attached objects and says “That’s the Gizmo and that’s the Thingy. In combination they propel the ship at very high speed”. So a gizmo and a thingy couple with the wee to go fast, oh dear, not very scientific I suppose. “This is complex fiction” I reply finding it hard to come up with anything useful to say. Looking around I see all these tubes and ladders running up and down the inside of the building. I point them out and ask what they are. “Gee Sandy, what rock have you been living under. The tubes are called Snakes and the Ladders are just that, I mean haven’t you ever heard of the transport system called Snakes and Ladders?” replies a smug Jilligan.

…….No, it was Warrigal all along … who did the digital mischief