Around 1994 Me and the Ice Queen had just moved into our new home on Oak Road, Bradley and The Ice Queen was due to give birth to her first son Luke; the first of many.
We were happy here and soon formed a little community and would have a get together every weekend when we would all get drunk and sing into the microphone and play karaoke, Numbnuts and Miss Teaspoon lived round the front and had introduced us to this new house after years spent living at my mums.
It would be nice at this stage to say we all lived happily ever after and this was the end but as so often life is very rarely like that and soon the clouds were gathering on the horizon we were about to be introduced to another chapter of our lives…
We gradually got to know our next door neighbours, Mr & Mrs Liquid Sunshine, since we lived in a back to back house and they had to walk through our yard to get to their small abode, One day Mr Liquid Sunshine asked The Ice Queen if she was interested in a unique business opportunity. The Ice Queen was naturally curious and told me and we asked for more information, but were simply told that it was too complex to tell us at that moment "you can't give a haircut by telephone", one of the many sayings which we soon became brainwashed with, but that he and his wife would be happy to visit us to explain everything. We were a little suspicious, but impressed that they deemed it worthwhile for them to keep getting dressed up and disappearing off to these wonderful meetings and seminars and come back really happy. A few days later they turned up, smartly dressed in business attire, an easel and a nice shiny black briefcase and showed us
“THE PLAN”
They began by contrasting conventional business opportunities with what they had to offer. Whereas to set up a conventional business venture you risked "losing your shirt", with theirs there was minimal investment and running costs and you couldn't lose money! There would be no stock or premises costs, and the business would allow access to hundreds of quality goods and services at wholesale prices. Incidentally, it would not really involve selling! If you worked it, it would work for you. It was not a "get rich quick" scheme but would generate for us an income of over £10,000 each month after between 2 and 5 years. Yes, it would involve work, but would be part-time and flexible, taking up about 15 hours each week.
We were then subjected to what they termed a "cost of living exercise", where we were asked to calculate how much it would cost for an average family to live comfortably here and now. Of course it was apparent that my wage was barely enough to live on as a labourer at Sellers engineers and with a baby on the way something else was needed.
I had many years previous been to University and graduated with a Physics Degree at York but was unable to find employment especially after I managed somehow to blow myself up on my motorbike and spent 13 weeks in Pinderfields hospital with severe burns.
In retrospect we were sitting ducks, I was disillusioned by what life had given me and The Ice Queen was just looking for some excitement in our dull daily grind of day to day existence, it was long before she met Zooming Jason, Mr Umper Lumpa, The Russian Spy or The Ghost of Christmas Present.
Obviously this was part of the softening up process to make us amenable to what was on offer.
Then began the process of,"dream building". What would you do if you truly had time and money freedom? We discussed holidays, cars, travel etc. and our dreams were developed (what colour would your Mercedes be?). We were told that the business opportunity would be a vehicle to achieve them.
The Ice Queen said she would love to have a huge mansion on a beautiful island and be able to buy all her friends houses nearby and I said I would be happy with a nice new pedal bike with the change that was left.
Clearly Mr & Mrs Sunshine was in an even worse position than us, Mr Sunshine was unemployed and they had a very poorly daughter, their house was totally packed out with cleaning products but it only had one bedroom and the frustrations could be felt, but they still seemed to be going places.
We were then informed of the "Time Trap." We all spend the first 20 years of our lives dreaming and learning, followed by 20 years earning, and then we spend the rest of our lives "yearning" (what if we had/hadn't done this or that) and end up broke reflecting on missed opportunities. Of course their inference was there was an alternative, which lo and behold they were about to reveal.
It was then demonstrated how the traditional method of distributing goods and services to consumers relied upon a whole series of middlemen (wholesalers, retailers, shippers, warehouses etc), each of whom took their cut. A better and more efficient way would be for a broker to purchase such goods and services at cost (cutting out the middleman), sell for a profit to a consumer, and also receive a type of royalty bonus dependant upon volume of goods sold. Everyone would be happy: manufacturers/suppliers would have a market, consumers would receive goods and services costing less than from the shops; and of course the brokers/distributors would be rewarded for their efforts. The logic of this seemed irrefutable, and perhaps blinded me and The Ice Queen to the more problematic aspects of what was involved.
The mechanics were then explained. Goods and services were accessible from a large and powerful corporation who only operated through distributors. Our line of sponsorship and IBS (a highly successful training organisation in the UK) would provide full comprehensive training. We would get started by purchasing products through our sponsors for self-use and a small amount of retail to friends and family. Even at this level we would make and save money. With limited monthly turnover of say £200, we would show a "profit" of at least £40! Then we would look to expand our business in the same way as McDonalds, for example does, by opening a number of outlets. By recruiting others, we would increase our monthly turnover, thereby increasing the bonuses we would be paid by the corporation. The whole scheme was impeccably fair, as we all (from the highest distributor to the newest recruit) pay the same for the products. Bonuses are paid in direct proportion to turnover. Through this process of expansion, we would earn more and more, until we became financially free. The Plan ended with the statement that we had just been shown the "Amway Sales and Marketing Plan." This was the first mention of Amway.
We were left with some literature, audio cassettes, and a "follow-up" video cassette, and they arranged to see us in a couple of days.
THE REALITY.
You begin sending me 50 pounds month. I will, in turn, authorize you to recruit others to send you 50 pounds a month. All money gets forwarded to your immediate sponsor and then passed up to his sponsor etc.
You will then receive a monthly bonus based on how many people are in your personal group. The monthly bonus is based on a progressive percentage up to a maximum of 96% !
When the number of people in your group reaches 75, you will be awarded the title of "Direct", receiving the maximum bonus of 96 %. At this point you'll be making at least 2 grand a month (75 X 50 = 3750. You get 96% ( £3600 minus bonuses paid to your "down line").
As your personal group hits the direct level, they will "break away" from you and you will continue to receive 4% of their business. Obviously, this offers you unlimited income potential. Is this the "real deal" or what !
The best part is: Nobody spends more than 600 pounds a year to stay in ! Heck, you won't even miss that 50 pounds. You'll save twice that when you resume shopping at the supermarket instead of buying that "other stuff".
Well, okay, we'll package up some mediocre household products and generic, crappy tasting food items and declare them upscale, high quality stuff. We'll sell the junk amongst are own groups to give the impression that we're a legitimate retail operation.
Unfortunately The Ice Queen was taken in by it. However, before we "signed on the dotted line", we were told we needed to buy some "tools" as necessary investment in our business. These comprised of books, tapes and functions.
The Ice Queen even started to learn to read, one day she managed to read 5 pages in one day, but her lack of progress clearly frustrated me however I did enjoy reading the books but didn’t enjoy buying them at the vastly inflated prices
During the following year or so, we were active distributors, and we believe our experience to be fairly typical, and was characterised by:
We signed up to the "book of the month" and "tape of the week" programmes.
We compiled a list of nearly one hundred names, most of whom we contacted in one form or another to promote "the most exiting business opportunity in the world today".
Most of these friends would run a mile, some people at work even stopped talking to me all together, we put particular pressure on my brother who now has developed schizophrenia has maybe a result and Dominating Donna who was The Ice Queens sister.
My mum and dad didn’t want to join but were happy to see us dressed up and looking happy for the first time in ages, they also offered to baby-sit for Luke as often as we wanted
Either by ourselves, or with the help of Mr Liquid Sunshine, we showed a number of "Plans", and did elicit some interest. We persuaded a couple of people one of who I worked with to attend open meetings, and Mr Myoyghi and his wife Fraggle who was not too good on her pins to pay for and attend a couple of seminars and a major functions.
There was four major functions per year, each costing up to £50 upwards each, The Dream Weekend costing in the region of a few hundred
At one stage, we had a group of 8 potencial distributors (and alcoholics / drug addicts), these comprised of Jedi Master Damian, Mad Phil, Jedi Fu*kup, Mr Myoyghi and Fraggle, Dominating Donna & The Gangster but were still losing money at a rapid rate.
Mr Liquid Sunshine had a few words with us about our choice of prospectors Mad Phil/Jedi Fu*kup was the local village tramp and he sat there entertained with his bottle of white lightning and his joint while I endeavoured to show him the Amway business plan.
Jedi Master Damian was less enthusiastic, he claimed it was a load of b*llocks and encouraged me just to get p*ssed and forget these loonys who live next door with their heads in cloud cuckoo land
We were so busy attending functions, that we neglected our new born son Luke, our little back to back home, our relatives and friends, our little garden and missed out on our holidays and social activities.
Despite the hype and the froth of the functions, few people were achieving great levels of success. Our very own sponsors, Mr & Mrs Liquid Sunshine, who were prospecting a couple of curry delivery people, and showing at least 10 plans each month never increased their bonus percentage level; (although they never let on, I suspect they're still stuck at 3%, after 2 years of active involvement).
In a way I felt sorry for them, they were so heavily brainwashed by the monster and had so little money to buy all the stuff required, Mrs Sunshine would come round and tell the Ice Queen excitedly about some new product that had come out and they had bought, it was laughable really.
We did attempt a little retail. Although we enthusiastically promoted the quality and concentration of the products, we rarely achieved a repeat order indeed our neighbour round the front Numbnuts and his misses Tina Teaspoon claimed they were allergic to the dish drops and the washing powder
So, after a year or so of dreaming and doing as we were told, the penny finally dropped. We quit the "system”.
Really we were lucky to have escaped with as little lost as we did, and lucky to have some close friends round us who pulled us out of the scam before it totally consumed us, I still laugh to this day at Mr Sunshine desperately trying to show us this plan while I was p*ssed on the chair having fallen asleep and wet myself.
Mad Phil was lying unconscious on the hearth next to the gas fire, The Ice Queen was fighting with Jedi Master Damian upstairs.
I never knew what happened to Mr & Mrs Sunshine, I did feel sorry for them, many years later I learned that their daughter died and they had moved away from the area having lost all their few friends and been bled dry by the IBS “System”.
It seems the money made was in the tools which often had a mark-up of 500% or so and those at the top reaped all this profit in.
Anyway shortly after this me and The Ice Queen went our separate ways and I went on to become a full time alcoholic and cannabis addict finally quitting in August 2004 while the Ice Queen well she was recently visited by three ghosts but that is another story.
Jedess Committee was a very proud girl and she loved her dear boyfriend Mr Unstable person, only problem is nobody else did, anyway today’s story is not about Mr Unstable person or indeed The Ice Queen…
Today Jedess Committee needed a new pair of shoes.
She looked everywhere round Huddersfield where she lived, JJB Sports, Sportswear on Leeds Road, That funny little shop up the Imperial Arcade, but all the shoes cost at least ten pounds – and she only had two pounds because Silverback had conned her again.
Then she passed a store window on her way home at a shop that she had never seen before and saw a pair in her size, and they were only two pounds!
She tried them on and they were perfect, so she bought them and went home.
When she went to bed (with her brother Flid who cries if he cant sleep in her
bed), she placed her shoes side-by-side at the foot of her bed, lay down, and was just drifting off to sleep when she heard:
“My dear, would you care to dance?”
At fist she thought it was her brother Flid but he was sound asleep
“I don’t mind if I do.” Came the voice again
And the shoes began to dance. They clickety-clacked and tappity-tapped all over the house! When the sun rose, they set themselves down side-by-side at the foot of her bed.
It seemed to her only she could hear all the racket the night before since her mum Dominating Donna and her boyfriend Silverback didn’t complain about loosing sleep and her brother Flid slept soundly through anything as long as he was with his precious big sister.
That morning Jedess Committee marched back to the store. She had such a headache!
“I want my money back,” she said.
The storekeeper pointed to a sign that said, “No refunds or exchanges.”
He said, “This store sells used merchandise. Now if you wanted to donate the shoes, we could take them, but we can’t give you your money back.”
Jedess Committee didn’t like that. She wouldn’t have shoes or money then. So she went to her friend, Hermanie and told her the story.
“It sounds as if your shoes are bewitched,” her friend, Hermanie said. “You should go to the Muffin man who lives near the Rockies. He’ll take that spell away.”
“Oh no, I don’t want to go to see The Muffin Man!” Jedess Committee exclaimed.
“All right, then how about you put a brick in the shoes? It might hold them down, and they won’t dance!” her friend Hermanie said.
Jedess Committee went home. She was so tired she went straight to bed. She placed her shoes side-by-side at the foot of her bed, lay down, and was just drifting off to sleep when she heard:
“My dear, would you care to dance?”
“I don’t mind if I do.”
And the shoes began to dance. And if you thought they were noisy the first night, you should have heard them with a brick in them! Stompety-stomp, thoomety-thoom, they tap-danced, they clog-danced, they danced all over the house all night long.
When the sun rose, they set themselves down side-by-side at the foot of her bed.
Again her mum Dominating Donna didn’t hear a thing and Silverback was busy thinking up new rules so he wasn’t tired and her brother Flid was his usual annoying self so neither was he.
Jedesss Committee went back to Hermanies house. She had such a headache!
“The bricks didn’t work,” she said. “I’ll have to go to see the Muffin Man. But I don’t have any money!”
“Oh, that’s all right,” Hermanie said. “He doesn’t take money for removing spells – he just takes something real special. And I happen to know he likes blackberry jam – and my nan The Bradley Megaphone makes the best blackberry jam I’ve ever tasted.”
The Bradley Megaphone gave Jedess Committee her prettiest pot of blackberry jam, dressed it up with a ribbon and put it in a basket, and went to see the Muffin Man at the Rockies.
The Muffin Man came shuffling out of his cave. His hair was long and matted, he had warts all over his nose, and he smelled as if he hadn’t taken a bath in three years. He had about an inch of dirt under his long fingernails.
“What do you want?” he said.
“My shoes have a spell on them. Could you take it off? I brought you some blackberry jam,” Jedess Committee said.
“Blackberry jam! I love blackberry jam,” said the Muffin Man. “But it has to be real special. Let’s have a taste.”
Now, the Muffin Man didn’t eat jam the same way as you or I do, spread on bread or maybe eaten with a spoon. No, he dipped his old hairy hand into the jar and sucked the jam off his fingers.
“Sluuuuurp! Hmmm, nice. But I don’t know if it’s special. Let’s have another taste.”
He dipped his hand in again.
“Sluuuuurp! Good blackberry flavor. But I don’t know if it’s special. I’d better have another taste.”
He scraped out the last of the jam.
“Sluuuurp! No, it’s not special. It’s just ordinary blackberry jam. I can’t take a spell off for jam that isn’t special. But I’ll give you some advice: Keep your shoes on when you go to bed tonight. If they can’t touch the floor, they can’t dance.”
Jedess Committee wasn’t happy, but she went home. She was so tired she went straight to bed (with of course Flid her brother).
This time she kept the shoes on, lay down, and was just drifting off to sleep when she heard:
“My dear, would you care to dance?”
“I don’t mind if I do.”
And the shoes began to dance – with her in them! They danced the waltz, they danced the polka, they danced the hora, they danced the frug, they danced the twist, they danced the tango, they danced the bunny hop. She fell on the floor and they danced the gator! She grabbed the doorknob to try and stop dancing, but the shoes danced the door open and the woman danced all night among the blackberry bushes until the sun rose in the morning. She had such a headache – and she was mad!
“Leave the shoes on, he says! My jam isn’t special, he says! Well, I’m going to make him some real special blackberry jam!
She threw blackberries into her pot and began looking around for something to throw in there with them.
“Aha!”
She grabbed a bottle of cough syrup. Not the cherry-flavored kind, but the thick, black, icky kind. She dumped the whole bottle into the blackberry jam and stirred and stirred.
“Hmmm, what next? Aha!”
She grabbed a bottle of vinegar and dumped the whole bottle into the blackberry jam.
“Hmmm, what next? Aha!”
She grabbed a bottle of Tabasco sauce. One drop will set your tongue on fire. She dumped the whole bottle into the blackberry jam.
But the jam wasn’t special enough.
She stuck her finger into her nose, pulled out a big splodgy bogey like her uncle Mad Mick makes with his big nose and teeth like stonehenge, and threw it into the blackberry jam. Then she put the jam into a jar, put the jar in a basket, and went to see the Muffin Man at the Rockies.
“You’re back!” the Muffin Man said. “Did it work?”
“No,” Jedess Committee said. “The shoes danced all night. But I brought you some real special blackberry jam.”
“Let’s see!” the wizard said. He took off the lid, stuck in his old hairy hand, and sucked off the jam.
“Sluuuuuurp!”
He paused, a funny look on his face.
“You put something besides blackberries in this jam, didn’t you?”
“Yes, I did. I wanted it to be real special.”
“Well, let’s see if I can guess what it is!”
He stuck his old hairy hand in again.
“Sluuuuuuurp!”
He made a face.
“Did you put … cough syrup in this blackberry jam?”
“Yes, I did. I wanted it to be real special.”
“That’s what my mammy, Battyeford Lill always puts in her blackberry jam! She says cough syrup makes it slide down real nice. But you put something else in here, didn’t you?”
“Yes, I did. I wanted it to be real special.”
“Well, let’s see if I can guess what it is!”
He stuck his old hairy hand in again.
“Sluuuuuuurp!”
He made another face.
“Did you put … vinegar in this blackberry jam?”
“Yes, I did. I wanted it to be real special.”
“That’s what my dad, Wonderwood always puts in his blackberry jam! He says vinegar gives it a nice tang. But you put something else in here, didn’t you?”
“Yes, I did. I wanted it to be real special.”
“Well, let’s see if I can guess what it is!”
He stuck his old hairy hand in again.
“Sluuuuuuurp!”
He made another face.
“Did you put … Tabasco sauce in this blackberry jam?”
“Yes, I did. I wanted it to be real special.”
“That’s what my Other personality always puts in his blackberry jam! He says Tabasco sauce warms the tummy! But you put … something else in here, didn’t you?”
“Yes, I did. I wanted it to be real special.”
“Well, let’s see if I can guess what it is!”
He stuck his old hairy hand in again. And this time he took out the last bit of blackberry jam.
“Sluuuuuuuuuuuuuurp!”
He had some trouble getting a bit of jam off his teeth. Then a shocked look came over his face.
“Did … you … put … a … bogey in this blackberry jam?”
“Yes, I did. And you deserved it!”
“But that’s what I always put in my blackberry jam! I say jam just isn’t special unless you put a bogey in it!”
He waved his hands toward the shoes.
“I’m gonna take that spell off right now!”
Jedess Committee went home, placed her shoes side-by-side at the foot of her bed, lay down, and was just drifting off to sleep when she heard:
Many tens of billions of years ago our universe exploded into existence with an enormous explosion and the particles congregated into stars and galaxies, in a medium size galaxy a small star gave light to a small rocky planet called “earth”
On this planet there existed many countries that were occupied by billions of people but in just one of these small countries in a town called Huddersfield and a suburb called Bradley lived a famous tale teller
The tale-teller travelled from village to village with his leather satchel over his shoulder, telling tales in exchange for a hot meal and a place to sleep ... and perhaps a new tale or two with him when he left. For tales are meant to be shared. If they’re not told, they crumble into dust.
On the night my story takes place, the townspeople of Bradley were rejoicing with the news that the tale-teller was coming home. Hamster Spring-a-leak had opened his house in Bradley Jungle and declared a feast day, and all the people from miles around came to eat and drink and listen.
Among the listeners was a young maiden a visitor to the area, a peasant girl nicknamed “The Stone Princess”, who was collecting food in her apron for her friend Amme lying sick in bed at home. The Stone Princess was a hairdresser who was totally devoid of body hair and had come to Bradley on a blind date but her friend had fallen sick.
When the tale-teller entered the hall, the people cheered. "Tell us a story! Tell us a story!"
The tale teller smiled and set his leather satchel down on a table. He opened it, and those who were nearest could see it was filled to the brim with polished stones.
"I’ve prepared a new one for you," he said, and picked up a stone from the top. Grasping it in his right hand, he pressed it against his heart, closed his eyes and took a long, slow breath. He opened his eyes.
"Down Chapel Hill from Huddersfield on the right about 500 yards down exists a large engineering works called Sellers employing about 100 people Walking through the main gates to the right is the remains of the old
Huddersfield narrow canal where Tom Nidole caught a fish in the early 1970's.
At present the canal flows through a underground pipe following the site being filled in during the mid 1970's and is due to be reopened by the turn of the millennium but all that is being done at the moment (early 1998) is people keep digging holes everywhere…”
he began. His hand never left his heart.
The listeners leaned forward, hardly breathing, not wanting to miss a word. It was a story of a thrilling adventure of a place called Sellers in a far off fantasy world, and when the tale-teller finished, the listeners cheered. The tale-teller took the stone away from his heart and replaced it in the satchel.
"Another! Another!" the people shouted. "A funny one!"
"Here’s one you’ll like," said the tale-teller, choosing a small red stone from the satchel. He placed it over his heart as before.
"August 12th 2006 was my first visit to Skipsea sands on holiday since I got hopelessly drunk nearly 2 years prior and ended up in AA admitting I was an alcoholic and thereby committing myself never to drink alcohol again for as long as I live.
Skipsea sands was my breaking point where the demon finally took over me and brought me to my knees so it was with great reluctance that I returned luckily The Magic Pixies, My Higher Power, 4 Doggies and 12 other humans accompanied me to forever sleigh that demon that seemed to always fill my dreams…"
Soon the listeners were weak with laughter. When the tale-teller finished, they shouted, "Another! Another!"
"Do you have a love story?" asked a young couple nearby. The tale-teller smiled and said, "Of course." He reached into the satchel and pulled out a silver stone shaped like a teardrop.
"A long time ago there lived three sisters called Rentagob, The Ice Queen and Dominating Donna ..."
As he told this tale, tears formed in the eyes of his listeners, for the lovers had to undergo many trials to test their love. But there was one listener whose eyes were not wet.
This man was called Shadow, and he had come to the feast for the free food, not the stories. But when he saw the silver stone, his interest in this tale-teller grew.
Easily, like a snake, he slithered through the crowd until he stood beside the table where the satchel lay. His practiced eyes scanned the stones within.
These were no ordinary stones!
He would have to have a The Russian Jeweller appraise them, of course, but he’d be willing to wager that he was looking at carnelians, opals, jade, amber, lapis lazuli and other semi-precious stones.
He hadn’t even noticed that the tale-teller had finished his tale. The tale-teller set the teardrop-shaped stone in the satchel right before the thief’s eyes.
It was solid silver!
A stone like that would bring a good price, thought the shadow, and waited for his chance. Suddenly it came.
"My friends, I must go refresh my thirst ... but I will return shortly," said the tale-teller. He left his satchel, still open, on the table.
The shadow snatched the silver stone and slipped it into the leather bag that hung from his belt. He glanced around, grabbed a handful of other stones and slithered into the night.
The tale-teller, returning with a frosty tankard, saw him go. He stroked huge nose and sighed..
Soon shadow arrived at the home of a The Russian Jeweller.
"What would you give me for this?" he asked, reaching into his pouch. Feeling the largest stone, he pulled it out.
"Nothing," said the The Russian Jeweller. "Common stones such as this can be found alongside any road."
"What?!" said Shadow. He peered at the stone in the candlelight. He could have sworn it was silver, but now it looked like an ordinary rock.
He turned the pouch over and dumped out all the stones. Every one of them was a common pebble.
"I don’t understand," said the shadow. "In the tale-teller’s hands, these stones were different!"
"Ah, so that’s what happened," said the The Russian Jeweller. "These are story stones. They can’t be sold. Did you listen to the stories?"
The shadow shook his head.
"Without the stories, they’re completely worthless," said the The Russian Jeweller. "Go on your way. I’m going to bed."
Back at the hall, the tale-teller had returned, and the listeners were again begging for a tale. What to tell? His eyes scanned the room, and met the eyes of a young maiden with an apron full of food. I know what she needs to hear, he thought. Ah, here’s the perfect stone ... a heart-healing tale.
"… It was the Stone Princess, at least that is what he called her. There, seated directly across from the bench, was a beautiful stone carving. The carving was that of a young woman, seated on a stone throne, wearing stone robes, and a stone crown on her head. In one delicate hand, extended so that it was right in front of her face, sat a small bird. The gaze of the Stone Princess and that of the bird met in such a way as to give the observer the impression they shared a secret..."
His eyes never left those of the maiden.
She needs this story, he realized. She needs this story even more than I do.
When the tale was done, the girl moved through the crowd until she stood before him.
"Would you come to my house and tell my friend that story?" she begged.
He looked at her a moment, then picked up the stone again and placed it in her hand.
"I think you need to be the one to tell it," he said.
The girl hurried home, with her apron full of food and the stone clutched tightly in her hand. Her friend was lying in bed, feverish and weak.
"I’ve brought you something wonderful," said the girl, opening her hand.
Oh no! This was a plain, ordinary rock!
Quickly she closed her hand to hide it. She would have to pretend. She placed her hand over her heart and took a deep breath.
Suddenly her mind was flooded with images, feelings ... everything that had been in the story!
" …The Prince had often marveled at the skill the stone cutter must have had to carve such a small creature. When his father had come to the land to build his castle the Stone Princess was already there. The Prince had been told by his mother that the beauty of the statue was such that the gardens had been built around it…."
She stumbled over some of the words, but the images remained, and she found new words. Her eyes never left her friend.
When she finished, her friends face was radiant. "Oh, what a beautiful story. Could you tell it again?"
"Of course." The girl put the stone over her heart again, and again the images washed over her. The words came easier this time.
"This is better nourishment than food," said her friend. "Again ... please?"
Through the night, the story was told again and again, each time more smoothly. When the morning sun came through their window, it shone on two sleeping girls.
And in the hand of one of them was a stone of bright, shining gold.
Dears Foot Camping - Camping At Echo Beach With Picker Packer & Master Shrek From The Salt Pot Mansion Plus Friends
Yes he’s back “Phils Here”, “Cap Of Tea, Coffee Fackin Hell”, First he came up to Yorkshire in Episode I and saw my fall from grace, the end of my relationship with the Ice Queen and the beginning of my slip into alcoholism, this era was referred to in the Jedi Chronicles as “Picker Packer And The Philosophers Stone”.
Episode I lasted from 1995-1997 after which Picker Packer returned to his heavenly father in Peanut butter but the second coming as predicted in the book of revelations was always prophesised and eventually occurred.
Episode II “Picker Packer And The Chamber Of Secrets” saw the latter end of 1999 until sometime towards the end of 2001 when my alcoholism took away my job at Sellers and my sanity to a place where even the legendary Picker Packer could not reach me.
Finally here we are in April 2007 and Picker Packer claims in the words immortalised by his favourite pop group take that he is “back for good”, this episode III was not even foreseen by the mighty Jedi Council has been labelled “Picker Packer And The Goblet Of Fire”.
Where the Picker Packer came from initially is still steeped in mystery, some theorise he came from the future like The Terminator only has a baby and appeared in a dodgy microwave oven, others say he is the modern Jesus, but one thing is certain he creates a wave of happiness and coherence.
Thankfully Picker Packer was this time given accommodation in Master Shreks legendary Salt Pot mansion that I will talk more about later.
Anyway in order to welcome our wizard back to our humble abode (Picker Packer could be likened to Gandolf who visits the Hobbits in the famous JRR Tolkien Novel “The Lord Of The Rings”) myself and Master Shrek arranged a local camping expedition down by the river at a local beauty spot called “Echo Beach”.
We also had took with us Luke, his brother Stig, my brother; The Ticking Bomb. His daughter; Red Riding Hood (aka Jedess Committee) and of course my faithful canine companion Miss Boley, plus lots of food and a couple of tents.
The mile and a half trek from my mums house took a lot out of our party each laden
with enough supplies to last us the next 24 hours and when we arrived Red Riding Hood cooked spaghetti bolognaise for us all while Master Shrek, Luke and Stig built our first campfire.
Picker Packer sat with his Crocodile Shoes on enjoying his first meal in quite a while and has he enjoyed it he observed “Ticky bomb I don’t know how he gets so fackin big without eatin mate hes hardly got anorexia has he but then again neither has fackin damian, blimey hes got massive now”.
Master Shrek has just lit the campfire with some petrol he has brought with him nearly blowing himself up in the process, I point out to a concerned Picker Packer that this is normal of course I make sure all the children are safely out of the way first.
I explain to Picker Packer about my fear of petrol, of course he knows all about me getting badly burned back in 1990 and he is curious if this mystery girl that I am going to meet shortly over in Liverpool also knows all about it, I reply that the Stone Princess thinks I am half cooked anyway.
Anyway after our meals we all gather round the crackling fire to tell ghost stories and of course Master Shrek starts the ball rolling with his tale of how his yard got the name “Salt Pot Mansion”
“It was one evening late on when me and Miss Jiggy were thinking of retiring to bed ready for another workout and we heard loud banging from one of the upper chambers of our 15 bedroom mansion.
Now at this point I must add that Shreks mansion was once an old peoples home therefore many people over the years have spent their last moments in this world there before retiring to the afterlife, hence if there is such thing as ghosts it would be expected to be riddled with them
“I wanted Miss Jiggy to go up and investigate but she wouldn’t so I had to do it, the room which seemed to be the source of the noise was up the last flight of steps, right at their summit and I gingerly approached.
I noticed that all around the door light was shining through as if some really intense source was behind the door, then it occurred to me that this particular room did not even have a light bulb because Miss Jiggy had borrowed it the other day for her cannabis lighting.
Anyway to cut a long story short I ran up the remaining steps and threw open the door to darkness, it was as if everything had instantly gone back to normal except one salt pot, which was hovering in the air right in front of the door.
It hovered there for about another ten seconds before dropping to the floor with a thud like an invisible hand had simply released it”.
We were all mesmerised by Master Shreks story, it was like the Part Of Star Wars Return Of The Jedi when all the Ewoks are listening to threepio’s tales of the rebellions battles with the empire.
Luke said the other day when we were on MSN talking to Master Shrek with webcam we saw a salt pot floating behind his chair when he was typing, to which Shrek said he had no knowledge of how that could of occurred.
The fire was dying down a bit which prompted Picker Packer, Stig of the dump and Red Riding Hood to go searching in the darkness for more twigs and branches but with an eerie caution for stray floating salt pots.
This just leaves me, Shrek and Ticking Bomb back at the campfire, we realise our chosen site for our tents is going to be quite noisy with the M62 about 500m away and the Ticking Bomb enquires if my chewing gums taste nice?
When they return I explain my startling new discovery about campfires, in that they are like stars in which the more fuel you had to them the quicker they burn it up and the more ferocious their hunger for yet more trips into the darkness.
Picker Packer jokes “I thought u had gane to fackin B&Q for the fackin wood mate” when we return from this strange area of woodland which looks like it could be some sort of site for satanic rituals.
All around the area were branches meshed together like in the film “Blaire Witch” and on one of the perimeters was what looked like a dears foot and part of its ribcage tied with what looked like an old dog lead and in the centre was a bench with some recently purchased bacon and sausages, we knew they were recent since the best before dates were 2 and 7 days hence respectively.
On our return we discuss amongst ourselves the hidden meaning of such a strange area inside the wood, Picker Packer comments that we could maybe of got a few morsels of meat from that dears foot but he is happy with burgers and spaghetti bolognaise.
Red Riding Hood is missing Mr Unstable, at a recent Peterborough Football match most of the crowd had scarves saying “Thank f*ck hes gone” and The Ticking Bomb says his first words of the day “The fire is looking good tonight”.
Stig says he is not scared at all in the woods despite his mum, The Ice Queen keep phoning to enquire about his wellbeing and my imaginary friend from my delusional world, The Stone Princess sends me a text promising not to jump in the Mersey when she meets me in a couple of days because there are too many turds in there.
So that brings to an end Sunday 8th April, Luke, Red Riding Hood, Miss Boley and Stig go to sleep in one tent while Master Shrek, Myself, Picker Packer and The Ticking Bomb sleep in another.
Both me and Master Shrek are in separate segregated bedrooms in the larger tent while Ticking Bomb and Picker Packer are sleeping together in the main area, as we drift off to sleep we hear Ticking Bomb ask Picker Packer “Are these yours”, we both laugh thinking about what it is that the Ticking Bomb was referring to.
The next morning I find out that “something” was walking round our tent in the night and Red Riding Hood was moaning that she was cold cos her daddy The Ticking Bomb pinched her sleeping bag, Picker Packer had a dream that he was selling double glazed windows at 4am and Master Shrek dreamt that he and Miss Jiggy had sex on a bed in a bed showroom in front of all the customers.
We all settle down to eat breakfast and Picker Packer tells us more about his trip up to Yorkshire…
“Fackin bus driver, he wouldn’t let me take my TV on the bus because he said it might blow up Michol, I asked him if he had watched speed too much, I talked to a couple of people on the train camin up here man to Yorkshire Michol, an accountant and a eunuch, the eunuch got off at Newark.
I was smiling at some birds as well on the train Michol, they kept giving me the eye init init init, then they all got orf at the wrong fackin station”
Even The Ticking Bomb laughs at this so we conclude that Picker Packer is like Jesus bringing him out of his depression, so far he has spoken five times which is more than Ive heard him utter in months.
After breakfast we realise we need some more supplies so me, Shrek and Red Riding Hood trek back the 1 ½ miles from Walkabout Creek which has become our new temporary home to my mums house then get in the car for ASDA.
Just like prehistoric man must have done many many years ago, when we return we find that Jedi Master Damian has tracked us down and despite doctors orders to the contrary he has started drinking again.
Poor Picker Packer is on the receiving end of endless p*ss taking, just like old times, indeed Master Damian always pulls himself up by pulling others down, it is his trademark but with added alcohol even Picker Packer finds it hard to keep his relaxed demeanour…
“How many TVs have you left behind, every time you come up here you leave a TV behind, and you should of seen Picker Packers old microwave, the one he had in Episode I when he lived at Dalton Bank Road.
You know the terminator when he comes back from the future and appears in the nude you know crouched down, well all the lightning that precedes this was like the inside of Picky Packys microwave.
It was full of knives and forks and I opened up the top and it was full of water so I threw it out for him before he burnt his house down or killed someone, when I came back a few days later the c*nt had took it back in again”
“Oh and his poor pedal bike, he used to loose it and throw it up in the air, everyone stopped and stared at his antics while at the petrol pumps, he then used to go pick it back up and expect it to work properly again, the chain would be off and he’d get on and start pedalling and get even madder cos he wasn’t getting anywhere”
Master Damian looks at a tree which Stig is idly climbing on and it is shaped a bit like a catapult…
“Hey we could get Picker Packer and catapult him on to the M62, can you imagine it faaaackiiiiiin heeeeell”
Now he looks a Picker Packers shoes which we have all decided are called crocodiles shoes sadly somehow he has lost his laces in the night somewhere, Picker Packer is now staring at the ground pulling up tufts of grass trying to keep is composure.
“I can imagine tomorrow everyone will wake up without shoe laces and Picker Packer will have tons of em”
Picker Packer mentions something about wanting to phone his mum, which spawns fresh verbal assault from Master Damian…
“She’s gone to church Picker Packer, she’s gone to thank god for you f*cking off”
Master Shrek mentions that we are running out of water which brings more p*ss takes…
“Send Picker Packer to the farm with the bucket, ‘here mate can I have some fackin water mate’ to which the farmer replies, ‘here have some water and a block of soap, get a wash you dirty b*stard”
The water situation is pretty desperate and we don’t want to drink river water so me and Shrek leave Walkabout Creek again to get away from a) the drunken p*ss taking by Master Damian and b) to fetch some more water which we return about a hour later on my motorbike that I affectionately call “Shiitehawk” after Master Shrek had negotiated with the legendary Gangster about obtaining some “stuff”.
When we returned there was just Master Damian and The Ticking Bomb, Picker Packer in desperation for some excuse to get away from the endless tormenting by Master Damian had decided to go back to where we saw the dears foot and fetch the bench back with Red Riding Hood, Stig and Luke.
Old Shiitehawk negotiated the river bank brilliantly and made it much easier to fetch the water but I didn’t trust leaving it there over night and anyway I had left Miss Boley back at my mums, she had gone for a lie down because Master Damian said she looked dopey, it also thankfully gave me another opportunity to escape being ridiculed further by Master Damian.
When I asked who wanted to accompany me I had quite a few volunteers with pleading eyes but I had to take Luke, I also got requests to purchase alcohol from Mr Sharmas for (of course) Master Damian and surprisingly Shrek who by now had realised if you cant beat em join em.
I still call it Mr Sharmas even though Mr Sharma himself has long since retired to India probably living off the profits he made when I was an active alcoholic, in fact I used to joke that if I had died a couple of years ago only Mr Sharma would of turned up to mourn at my funeral.
I gave the young lady at the counter a lengthily explanation about how I gave up drinking and she looked at me totally gone out as I explained that the one litre bottle of white star and two cans of Stella were not for me.
Anyway we eventually arrived back at Walkabout Creek with Miss Boley and Luke and found that Picker Packer now had a black eye which had occurred when Jedi Master Damian had “accidentally” hit him with a branch.
“Michol, I nearly saw fackin red man, init, I was going to go on an anger management course when I was down south but who needs a anger management course, just put yerself in a room with fackin damon for a day and if yer keep yer cool, init, you’ve passed man”.
Sadly for Picker Packer Jedi Master Damians still going strong especially has he has now refuelled with a litre of white frightening… “Wheres your big Deardre Glasses Picker Packer, he whears them to watch the TV but the glasses are as big as a TV screen, you could even go Ice Skating on them”.
Realising Picker Packer is just about ready to explode Master Damian turns his attention to The Ticking Bomb who is sat silently with his can of “Super Duper Skol Extra Strength” lager, as silent as ever…
“The Ticking Bomb is a boring old b*stard, a big fat boring person who smokes a pipe…”
But that’s boring, strangely Master Damian never turns his p*ss takes on Master Shrek, but well most of the time with Picker Packer here he doesn’t need to…
“Picker Packer needs a shower, even a gnats arse wouldn’t invite him in, even a big mound of termites wouldn’t want to attack him”
As darkness creeps over the woods we decide to have a game of hide and seek, and after a Master Damian decides on some strange rules about hiding garments and bringing sticks back he finally leaves us all in peace.
I ask everyone for comments about our departed guest, he can be one of the nicest caring blokes around when he is sober but adding alcohol makes him become the constant p*ss taking individual I just described, Picker Packer says he needs a valium cos he is worn out and Master Shrek starts making the beautiful chicken curry.
He certainly reminds me why I gave up with drink two and a half years ago, I wont publish all the comments I received but I did check up to see if he got home alright because in Bradley deep down we all care about each other despite our characters.
We ended our second evening by enjoying one of the finest camping meals I have ever had, kindly prepared by our two chefs, Master Shrek and Red Riding Hood.
We then ended the day by sitting round the campfire playing a couple of word games, one which I never heard of before where the first person starts with for example “a is for apple”, the second person clockwise then adds for example “a is for apple, b is for banana”.
If one member forgets a letter then they are out, it gets harder and harder to remember what was said until we emerge with a winner which was surprisingly me with my photographic memory, never mind chaps.
Its Tuesday morning and my 38th Birthday, I am awoken to a text from The Stone Princess saying happy birthday and then to Red Riding Hood complaining about something scratching her tent in the night.
There was also a weird screech in the night which woke Miss Boley and sent Picker Packer and Master Shrek out to investigate, we was all a bit jumpy after Master Damian had warned us the day before that the place was swarming with killer minxes after dark and The Stone Princess had said the Dears Foot was a warning to us all to stay away.
Sadly we couldn’t stay any longer since Red Riding Hood had a dentist appointment and so after breakfast of sausages, beans and bacon prepared once again by our two wonderful camp chefs, Master Shrek and Red Riding Hood we commenced the arduous task of packing the tents.
On our return to my mums me and Stig of the dump discussed solipsism as a possible theory of consciousness and reality and The Ticking Bomb explained to us all how when he was 10 years old he solved the baffling problem that the “tingle” he heard every night when he went to bed was the light bulb contracting as it cooled down.
So ends Dears Foot camping expedition which is also available now on DVD and just goes to show how much fun you can still have even when you are 38. Also out soon is my other Easter blockbuster “My Meeting With The Stone Princess” which will also be accompanied by a DVD.
wearing stone robes, and some stone glasses on her head. In one delicate hand, extended so that it was right in front of her face, sat a small bird. The gaze of the Stone Princess and that of the bird met in such a way as to give the observer the impression they shared a secret. I had often marvelled at the skill the stonecutter must have had to carve such a small creature.
This dream had seemed to be part of my life, it had recurred to me for as long as I could remember but just lately it was becoming more and more vivid and more and more details were being added to it. Up to just recently there was nothing in the real waking world that I could associate with the dream until today when while idly trawling through a singles site recommended to me by a friend at my place of employment I was faced with a photograph of the very person I had had in my dreams for years.
For many weeks I had been happy to simply gaze at this picture of this stunning looking girl but today for some reason I had decided to send her an instant message with a simple “hello”, shaking and my heart beating I waited for a reply.
Over the coming weeks we got to know each other just by chatting on MSN, often well into the early hours of the morning, I gave her the name of Squeaky Chair and she called me Dripping Tap, she said she could read minds and pick up on peoples emotions and looking at mine she could see a longing desolate loneliness.
One night as I finally signed off from Squeaky Chair the recurring dream happened again only this time it went a little further than usual…
I took a seat on the bench, turned and watched as the dawn began to arrive. A very slight glow, far beyond the reach of Huddersfield, began to lighten the sky. As I strained to see the first rays of the sun, I heard a rustle behind me. I turned and stared in disbelief at what I saw. There, in the hand of the Stone Princess, the little bird rustled his feathers. The bird stretched its wings, gave a small hop, chirped, and flew away. As I sat startled, staring an even more incredible thing began to happen. The fingers of the hand that had held the bird began to quiver.
We had arranged to meet and I was so nervous, we was going to meet at an undisclosed time outside the “Liver-birds” building in Liverpool but I was absolutely terrified and to make matters worse I had told all my work mates at the lost world and they were saying things like “when she sees you she will run off screaming”, throughout the week before we met I became quieter and quieter until I could take it no more, I had to think of something so I sent her a really stroppy text which had the desired effect.
I jumped to my feet. I wanted to run, but I could not take his eyes off what was happening right in front of me. The fingers were now curling, the hand moved, and finally the arm bent. I followed the movement as the hand joined the other in the Stone Princess’ lap. Only the lap was no longer covered by a stone robe, but one of rich purple. The hands were no longer hard and cold, but smooth and soft and warm. Almost afraid to do so, I raised my eyes to her face, somehow knowing that it would no longer be lifeless. Indeed the eyes into which I now looked were every bit as alive as mine. The cheeks that had only moments before been cold and gray now glowed.
I was having that recurring dream again I made my way from my bedroom in my mum’s house, down the steps, and through the gate. Once outside I crossed a small field and then began to follow a narrow path that led to the top of a large hill. Near the top of the hill then I passed through a small gate and entered these huge gardens. Many dreams in the past I had come to the Gardens. It was my favourite place and also a very familiar place like I had been there so many times in many, many past lives
I walked quickly to the centre of the garden. There a small delicately carved bench, placed so that if one were seated there they would be able to see the very first rays of light as the dawn arrived. I loved that spot for a very special reason. It was the Stone Princess; at least that is what I called her. There, seated directly across from the bench, was a beautiful stone carving. The carving was that of a young woman, seated on a stone throne
The fact she was no longer happy with me broke me out of another dream, I had bottled it hadn’t I, Jason Donovans 1990 Number 8 hit “Hang On To Your Love” rang in my ears. I was going to book Thursday off from work but had become so worked up because I was meeting someone new, someone who had the potential to change my life but someone who I could find companionship, someone who could give my life meaning.But tommorow I was going to work as normal, nice and safe in my repetitive routine, a comfort zone.
Why do you think I still lived with mummy and daddy aged 38 because anything that was off the treadmill was foreign and scary.
I lay in the dark some time that Wednesday evening back in February 2007 knowing I was facing a fork in the road which my momentum of hum drum existence was taking me down one fork and my intuition, my native senses, my dream world was trying to get me to change direction on the other road.
Eventually I fell into a long dreamless sleep before carrying on my life as I had before.
However me and the Stone Princess kept chatting every night on MSN, joking with each other sometimes but she had lost a little patience with me, she told me more about herself and her friends in the spirit world.
It was about a month later, during mid March 2007 before another dream came to my nocturnal emptiness…
I sank back to the bench, afraid, not that some harm might become, but rather that I might wake from the dream that I am having. Instead of waking, I heard the Princess speak.
"Good morning, Michael. How fortunate that you should be in the garden on this most special morning, but then I should not be surprised for you are here almost every morning."
I shook my head and after a moment found my voice.
"I do not understand. I know what I see here, but even though I see it I still do not believe. I know this is a dream, and yet I feel that I am awake."
The Princess smiled. It was such a beautiful smile that I, shaken though I was, could only marvel at her loveliness.
"It is no dream, but rather a story that you will find most strange."
The Princess’ eyes left those of the mine and she seemed to struggle for a moment, as if searching for something in her past that she could barely recall. She turned again to me and spoke.
At this point I awoke, blimey my dreams were turning into soap operas now I thought, in fact sometimes I was no longer sure where the dream world ended and the real world began.
The Stone Princess claimed she was psychic, perhaps she was using some form of white magic on me, maybe she was trying to spiritually heal me and change my
outlook on life.
She had sent me a Valentines Card on Valentines day, the first I obtained in more than a decade and today through the post she had sent me a copy of The Celestine Prophesy on DVD.
The DVD seemed to describe my progress spiritually since I had first spoken to The Stone Princess in the form of nine insights and on watching it I had a brief glimpse of a dimension, which I kept closing my mind to.
My mind is like a parachute, it works much more effectively
when its open but I just could not seem to keep it open for long and these thoughts slowly seemed to fade away.
This girl was from a place far beyond this world, could it be that she had met me in a past life? Could it be she was my guardian angel and had decided to incarnate into this world just to help me?
I would write on MSN to her that “I loved her”, they were words so easy to type but what did they mean to someone who I had never dared meet, I decided to approach the subject again when a suitable opportunity arose.
The dreams though mercilessly continued…
"More than two hundred years ago I was but a large stone lying on the side of a mountain. A stone carver, a man with magic in his hands, took me from that place. There, in his home, he worked for many months until at last he had carved that which you see in front of you now. When he had finished he searched far and wide until at last he came to this place. Here on this hill, where the first light of dawn would shine upon me, and where the last rays of the sun would linger, he placed me. Then he cast a spell saying ’once every hundred years, on this very day, my Stone Princess, you will know the joy of life. From the dawn to the dusk of that day you will live as any other mortal.’ With those words he left me in this very spot, and it is here that I have remained. One hundred years later to the day I, for the first time, felt the early morning breeze, the warmth of the sun, and the smells of the living earth. For that entire day I lived, as any other human, save that I could not leave my throne. How sad I felt as the day began to wane and I realized that my time was short. It was then that a special gift was given to me. The small bird that you saw fly away came and perched here on the arm of my throne. When I held out my hand he flew to it and sat waiting. It was as if he knew what was to happen and did not wish me to return to my previous condition alone”
The Princess paused and smiled at me, "I know that all this is much too hard for you to understand, perhaps even to believe. Look at me, listen to my voice, and see that I am indeed here, and no longer a stone figure, but a living breathing person just like yourself.”
Maybe this is how people go crazy I thought as I woke again from the dream, drenched in sweat with the bedclothes tangled round me.
I just had to meet her in person and Easter was just round the corner, my son Luke and my niece Red Riding Hood will be wanting to go camping, perhaps I could persuade the Stone Princess to come to Walkabout Creek and come camping with us in the outback with nature.
Over the next few days I toyed with the idea and eventually blurted out that we had to meet and maybe she should come to Huddersfield to meet me.
She agreed at first but seemed reluctant, eventually we did agree to a meeting which was set for Thursday 12th April outside the Liver Birds building.
I went camping with Luke, Stig, Red Riding Hood, Master Shrek, Ticking Bomb and my cockney friend from Peanut butter who had come to Yorkshire for his third visit.
While in the tent one night and while Picker Packer dreamed of selling double glazed windows at 4am and while Master Shrek dreamed of getting Jiggy with Miss Jiggy on a bed in a bed shop in front of all the customers my next dream episode continued…
I rose to my feet and began pacing back and forth. "I admit that strange as the story is, I cannot deny that which I see before me. I know that for all the years of my youth I came to this very spot and can testify that you, at least the stone likeness of you, has always been here. I believe you, but I must wonder if I am going mad. But I do know that there are many things in this world that we do not understand."
I stopped my pacing, and then suddenly as if accepting what had happened, I approached the Princess. I stopped but a step away and knelt on one knee.
"Tell me, Princess; for one day is such a short time, what I can do for you. Do you hunger or thirst?"
"No, I need neither food nor drink, but there is something that you can give me."
"Anything within my power to give is yours. You need only ask."
