Lord of the Rungs: By J.R. Hartley
Gadaffi stood quite still, his long beard rustling in the cold morning air. There came a shout from Fido. "Will you hold that fukin ladder still!". Gadaffi sighed.
She: By H. Riding Hard
Harry Holloway and Leo Da vinci were tiring as the heat from the African jungle bore down on thier backs. From the bush, Ayesha emerged with her tribe. "Have you got any bog paper mate", she enquired.
Anne of Grim Gerbles: By Lord Maundy Money
Manilla and Mortimer waited by the gate at end of the garden. A Horse drawn carriage pulled up. Out stepped a small dapper dwarf. "Surely your not from the orphanage?", enquired Manilla. "Yes I am, and dont call me Shirley", retorted the dwarf.