Like I said -
nothing whatsoever to do with the CRCMH. Oh, and by the way - please
don't be so demented as to go and do anything that remotely resembles
actually following these instructions. It's only humour and I don't
need a law suit on my hands thank you very much (kids). Apologies
though that you have to be a Lilliput Lane freak to understand
the joke about Saxon Cottage.
But if you are one of those aforementioned freaks - feel free to make
Ben an offer on St.Peter's Cove
via myself (it's in absolutely mint condition) - it might even pay
for his swimming pool. Bastard. Hmmm...
Okay, and while
I'm at it, I might as well rid myself of another skeleton from my
typewriter days (i.e. the late 1980s). It's another Lilliput Lane
related story - a companion piece you might say. I might as well work
for them at this rate. Actually, come to think of it, I practically
did. Here - in a world exclusive - I can reliably inform you that
I, Damon Torsten, was single-handedly responsible for the appearance
of the Lilliput Lane cottage The Ugly House. And I'm
deadly serious about this - I'm not joking. As you may or may not
know, this is a real building in North Wales - a rather unique structure.
Now, I sent Lilliput Lane some photos of it and said "you
idiots, why haven't you made this one yet? It's a tourist attraction!
It'll sell zillions of models!". And what did they do? Yep, Make
a Lilliput Lane version. What did they get? Yep, zillions of
money. What did they send me for the rather generous tip-off? A Lilliput
Lane catalogue - signed by founder David John Tate no less. Whoopy-doo.
Bastards. At last, the truth comes out - so if you see one, confiscate
it and tell 'em that I own the copyright on the idea. Okay> Good.
But back to the point, the following piece of writing is based around,
well, I'll tell you afterwards or it'll spoil the story.
Tales of the Unexpected
- by Damon Torsten
And there he was. Looking
sad as he trudged down the lane. The time had come. He turned onto
a paved walk and strolled some sixty metres along the smelly street.
Shops crowded either side, towering above. He felt small and stopped
walking. Glancing around, he turned left and took a few short paces
towards the entrance. Stumbling to turn the plastic sphere, the door
Cobwebs fluttered in the
new air that had blown in. There was a room. It was full of various
objects of curiosity, all stacked up on shelves and benches, all covered
with dust which must have been a good half inch thick. Clothes hung
in the centre of the room, unwanted and caked in more dust. Pushing
cobwebs out of the way, he started moving to the other side of the
room. He could barely see where he was going through the thick atmosphere
but had a cold feeling of being watched. Stretching out his arm to
the right, he felt his way along a shelf. His hand touched a peculiar
object that felt solid and detailed but a strange shape. He pressed
on and made his way cautiously forward. It was then that the mist
started to clear.
A noise - and infront of
him, the terrifying form of a dragon emerged.
In panic, he quickly turned
to his left and stepped away from the fire-breathing monster. But
his passage was still blocked. There was a desk of some description.
He tapped it. Wood. And then - suddenly - another noise. He strained
his ears to listen. It came again. A cough - a human cough? Then,
infront of him, he watched as the mist and cobwebs were cleared away.
An image presented itself and he attempted to figure it out. It was
Two Asian men. Both standing
behind the wooden desk. He briskly handed them some paper notes, and
in exchange, was passed a cardboard box. He nodded his head to the
men and made his way back out of the room and onto the paved walkway
At last, Ben had paid off
all of Schloss Neuschwanstein.
Okay, before you
frustrate yourself to death with "what the **** was that all
about?", here's the entire story in one sentence: It's an account
of Ben going into the Sneep Gift Shop on Maidenhead High Street
to finally pay off a Lilliput Lane castle he'd had on Lay-By for months.
End of story. Pointless - but if you've ever actually been into Sneep
(which is still there - see picture below - and also the source of
the word Neep as used frequently by Pwürg),
the whole thing will make perfect sense. Or not. I think I'll quit
while there's an ever so slight chance that I'm actually ahead...