General Chat

oooo me head keep it down you lot! wheres the showers?

A moose peeps cautiously out from among the leaves. Having found great great grandmother elk’s marriage after a search of many months, walked the streets where the antelope roamed, and celebrated the discoveries with the elk, she has been enjoying herself. What is the first sight those pink eyes fall on? A deerskin. A fly settles on the filmy eyes. She shudders, nervously, glad she still has her balaclava. The evil ogre points out that the cobwebs thick as ropes are still there. Cloven hooves were not made for dusting. She utters a small, plaintive bellow and retreats into the undergrowth.

A lone figure stumbles through the undergrowth. Her hair hanging wildly down her back, gown torn and tattered from the bramble bushes, dainty ruby slipper bereft of a heel. She hears voices yonder, and moves towards them, coming upon a clearing occupied by a strange assortment of characters. A portly figure dressed in the cloth of the Clergy is snoring gently, leaned up against a cauldron. Stepping into the clearing, broken ruby slipper in hand she utters a desperate plea ' Help me kind folk, I come from the Land Downunder.........

Alan A'Dale returns to the glade, clean and well-scrubbed, with his clothes tidy and his hose repaired. He is staggering slightly - not from over-indulgence the previous evening but because he has just been nearly knocked off his feet by a stampeding moose. He sees the newcomer, and is shocked by her appearance. 'Fair Maid' quoth Allan, 'what ails thee? From the look of you I would say that you have made a brave and timely escape from the hands of the evil Sheriff's henchmen. Come, sit by the remnants of the fire and Friar Tuck will bathe your wounds, and if you are very lucky, he may have left a morsel of venison with which to renew your strength'. Allan leads the poor lady to the fireside, and then wrestles with Friar Tuck for the last remains of the large hunk of meat he was about to consume.

Allan thoughtfully watches the retreat of Scarlett Willy. The two maidens sit by the campfire, eating Friar Tuck's venison, swigging his guiness and chatting together, as maidens do. Allan A'Dale picks up his lute and strums gently on it. Recalling a ballard which he learned when he was but a stripling, Allan begins to sing: Oh say, gentle maiden, may I be your lover. Oh cause me no more for to moan nor to weep. Cast down like a dog I lay wounded and bleeding, Oh let down your drawbridge, I’ll enter your keep. Enter your keep, nonny nonny, enter your keep, nonny nonny, Let down your drawbridge I’ll enter your keep. Alas and Alack, Sir, I am not a maiden, I’m married to Sir Oswald, that cunning old Celt. He’s off to the wars for a twelve month or longer And he’s taken the key to my chastity belt. Chastity belt, nonny nonny, chastity belt, nonny nonny, Taken the key to my chastity belt. Fear not, gentle maiden, I know of a locksmith We’ll to go his house on his door we will knock. Rat-a-tat-a-tat. We’ll plead that he uses his specialised knowledge And see if he’s able to unpick your lock. Unpick your lock, nonny nonny, unpick your lock, nonny nonny, See if he’s able to unpick your lock. I fear, Sir and Madam, I cannot assist you, My specialist knowledge is of no avail. I can’t find the secret of your combination – The cunning old Baron has fitted a Yale. Fitted a Yale, nonny nonny, fitted a Yale, nonny nonny, The cunning old Baron has fitted a Yale. Alas and alack, then, I’m locked up for ever. Then up stepped the pageboy saying, leave it to me. If you will allow me to enter your chamber, I’ll open you up with my duplicate key. Duplicate key, nonny nonny, duplicate key, nonny nonny, Open you up with my duplicate key.

The friar returns to the clearing after a hard day beating the rich about their skulls in order to relieve them of their ill-gotten gains. 'Alas poor maiden' he cries epying the lost maiden of Oz 'have I not seen you in a more rebellious mode' Let us repair to the fire and sup upon Mrs Merlin's magical brew.

Scarlett Willy, we are wild and simple folk here in the land of Gen but you are most humbly welcome amongst us, please sit and rest from your long and wearisome journey. Take food and wine and wait for your band of brothers to arrive. Jacquie xxxx

G'Evening Scarlett Willy, the Friar said - I have heard of you under the alias of WPT and I am glad to make your acquaintance. Sit down upon a log next to the fire and warm your bones because you are among friends here.

Jacq in Grenada, Welcome to our humble abode amongst the greenwood - it is good to see a traveller from a far off land. What news dost thy bringest us from distant shores?

Willy, get cooking lad, it will be nightfall before that boar is fit to eat and no doubt Robin will be back by then, hungered by his days excertions. (Don't let that guzzling Friar eat it all either).

Please may I join the Good Company (GC)? I remember in a far off time that I subscribed to GC! :-) Joy

The friar who had been transported into the future in a different guise returned carrying a carton of Guinness for the outlaw band and two cartons of cider for himself. 'Forsooth' he said 'I shall need to remember the address of that off - licence for future use' Allan & Scarlett he cried - I have brought one carton to replace that which I supped last night.

The lost lass sits down beside the Friar, amazed to find another from a land so far away. Accepting a bite to eat, she quietly surveyed her surroundings, and listens to the friendly banter of her new companions.

Tire Fruck sorry Friar Tuck( i knew i would have probs with that one) i hope that is Somerset cider you re supping and whats this a bout an off licence? ye can only get the real stuff from the farm

Anyone here by the name of Robin of Luxley? It appears he has forgotten to pay his horse tax/ beer tax/ community tax and clothing tax. I am here to collect the money owed to Good King John. Did you lot apply for planning permission, to erect this barbecue?

The lost lass jumps up. Feeling concern for Scarlett Willy she follows him towards the river. Smiling shyly, she offers the hem of her petticoat with which to bath his eyes. He accepts the delicate lawn fabric with a gallant bow, and doffs his feathered cap in the maidens direction.

Enter witch stage left and briskly fetches the Sherriff of Grottingham one with her broomstick. Dont we have enough trouble with your sort in the future, she yells and with a lithe twitch of the wand turns him into a bilious green frog. The witch has been long delayed in the land of IGI, seeking her ancestors who had a spell cast upon them many aeons ago by a malefactor, causing them to become invisible. She has wrested womanfully with the dreaded Page Turn, the No Results double bluff and the frankly cowardly This Page Cannot Be Displayed. But the witch prevailed and found her ancestors, pratting about in the Forest of Rossendale would you believe. She had to kill one or two surplus rellies off and therefore it is her great pleasure to offer a prize for the forthcoming Tournament - he who wins the tourney shall be dubbed Greave of Rossendale Forest, and shall henceforth be able to collect fallen wood for firewood and so shall the Heirs and successors of his bodie in perpetuity. Gentlemen, prepare your mounts - Ladies, present your favourite Knight with your colours. Let the Tournament begin! M.

My God! So much smoke. Can see nothing. Has Gisburn and his men found our hideaway and put my friends to flight, or is someone being over generous with the cooking time for the dinner?

Puff of pink smoke - Stepping carefully through all the empty beercans, cider flagons, ripped tights and spent arrows, Mrs Merlin wonders what on earth has been happening during her absence. An ugly green billious frog hops out from behind a large (empty) moneybag. Mrs Merlin swats him with her wand, and pops him into her cauldron of tears. 'Just the ingredient I need' she mutters,' for a brew of the strongest kind.' Green clouds appear, above the pot, and a croaky voice can be heard as if from far away............ 'Sorry - to everyone Ive upset, I was only obeying orders from above, King John is really..........' Mrs Merlin thoughtfully stirs, her potion

Alone again on her broomstick, the Witch cackles insanely to herself - another fearless visit to the Land of the IGILDS has uncovered a relly who married at the grand old age of 125.She truly wonders if it is worth the risk. Leaning forward, she picks hungrily at the roasting boar. It is succulent and tasty and melts in her mouth, leaving a strange pinkish/magenta stain on her lips... Has anyone actually SEEN the Moose lately.... M.