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*A muddy field somewhere in England between towering neo-metropolises A man is standing in his wellies, looking overly-excited*
“Hello! And welcome to Time Team, I’m Tony. We’ve finally been given permission to dig up this muddy field in our search for ancient computing technology. Amazing!”
*The camera zooms out to reveal a strange, twitchy man rocking back and forward on his heels*
“This is Sfone, he found something interesting here a few years back. Is that right?”
“Man may search out the answers ‘til he is old and frail, but until the perpetual movement halts and flesh falls, weary, nothing shall be found.”
“Huh?”
“I found it by accident.”
“Ooo-kayy then What did you find?”
“The nature of objects and how they are perceived by the mortal can only be complete when time’s hidden secrets are finally unlocked. Research into the unknown can often perplex the master philosopher, it takes an inquisitive child to discover what the years have hidden. My limited edification on the subject, and the clouded mind of men - fogged by pretence and lies - allowed me to know the matter I had unearthed was but the means to link the mind to the limbs.”
“Uh?”
*Sfone looks a little annoyed*
“A bit of wire. But I wasn’t sure, it was a long time ago.”
“Riiightt. We’re ... gonna go now. Err .... bye.”
*He legs it towards a small tent, inside some weird bloke with frizzy white hair is drooling over a piece of paper*
“Hello there Mr. Snuggly! What’s that you’ve got?”
*He holds up the piece of paper which is covered in hazy, insubstantial grey patches*
“This is fascinating! Look!”
“It’s a bunch of grey bits, Snuggly.”
“NO! You fool, these are areas where there’s some stuff under the ground!”
“Like ... dirt? And ... er ... stones?”
*Snuggly looks a little put-back*
“Well, possibly, but not necessarily. It might be plastic! Or, perhaps, sharp stones. Or lumps of dirt. Oh, why do I bother.”
*He picks up a map and jabs at two square plot*
“Just dig here you moron.”
“I don’t dig.”
“Well, you can clean the finds, then.”
*Laughs* “I DON’T think so”
“What DO you do, then!?”
“Not much. Err ... talk, look nice, be annoying.”
*Snuggly collapses. Tony legs it out to the field, where two trenches have suddenly appeared. He legs it over to the first trench where a bloke somewhere between farmer and mongoose has soiled himself with excitement*
“Well, BEARDS, what have you got there?”
“Oo, arr, Tony! Look here, what we’ve got a nice little bit of plastic, beautiful ain’t she?”
“Not ... really.”
“Oh, don’t say that, you’ll ‘urt her feelin’s!” *He strokes the plastic* “There, there my pretty, you’ll be okay. Don’t cry now.”
“Riiighht. Anything else?”
“Well, Tony! What we’ve done ‘ere is recreate what this bit o’ plastic would have looked like complete, with ‘er friends. Look!”
*The tiny piece of plastic appears on-screen and a chunky computer monitor evolves around it*
“What! It’s a bit of plastic! It could have come from anywhere! How d’you know it looked like that? It could have been from a vibrator for all you know!”
“No, Tony, no. That’s what it was.” *A tear rolls down his cheek* “Why’d you say that, Tony? Why? This purdy bit of plastic was very important, it was a computer, you’ve hurt it’s feelings. Big meanie. Say sorry.”
“What!? No, you big woman. Get back to work, and find something substantial. NOW!”
*Tony legs it over to a tent where (another) strange man is dressed up like a total freak*
“Hello there, FantasyMeister, what the hell are you wearing?”
“Well, Tony, as you can see I’ve recreated the traditional 21st century dress of gamers. A pair of ‘trainers’ worn with the laces undone so they’ll fall off when you walk; some ‘jeans’ which are four sizes to big for the occupant and could also fall down when you walk and this ‘hoody’ which is black with this weird plastic crap stuck to the front, which is meant to say Corn, but they’ve spelt it wrong and put a letter the wrong way around. As you can see - the gamers of old were all total uneducated idiots with very little brain power.”
“Wow, they really WERE stupid prricks, and I thought it was just a theory. Well, what have we over here?”
*FM looks very excited*
“This is an authentic replica of a gamer’s environment in the 21st century. The only seating in those days was an inflatable chair, given away in mass by our own global superpower SR themselves. This lump of plastic is a ‘TV’ which projects the game’s image; this other lump of plastic is a so-called ‘games console’ through which the games where played.”
“Ugh.”
“ExACTly! As well as being very stupid, gamers were very crude in their methods - they didn’t have subconscious VR brain chips in those days, if you can imagine such a thing, so had to resort to these various lumps of plastic for entertainment. These, and vibrators, as well.”
“As we well know. Sick little monkeys.”
*Two days later*
“Well! We’re at the end of our dig, finally, and we’ve found this.”
*The camera point at a big pile of plastic which has been stuck together with glue and selotape to form a portaloo. BEARDS is sulking in a corner.*
“It’s a bog. Perhaps used in conjunction with games. But most probably not.”
*Tony legs it to nowhere in particular*
“So, what have we learnt? One thing for sure - 21st century gamers were all stupid, narrow-minded, moronic clueless fashion disasters. Yes, ALL of them. Thank God they’re all dead. Come on FM, let’s go eat chicken.”
************
Short but sweet.
Perhaps
Thankee children,
FFF
“Hello! And welcome to Time Team, I’m Tony. We’ve finally been given permission to dig up this muddy field in our search for ancient computing technology. Amazing!”
*The camera zooms out to reveal a strange, twitchy man rocking back and forward on his heels*
“This is Sfone, he found something interesting here a few years back. Is that right?”
“Man may search out the answers ‘til he is old and frail, but until the perpetual movement halts and flesh falls, weary, nothing shall be found.”
“Huh?”
“I found it by accident.”
“Ooo-kayy then What did you find?”
“The nature of objects and how they are perceived by the mortal can only be complete when time’s hidden secrets are finally unlocked. Research into the unknown can often perplex the master philosopher, it takes an inquisitive child to discover what the years have hidden. My limited edification on the subject, and the clouded mind of men - fogged by pretence and lies - allowed me to know the matter I had unearthed was but the means to link the mind to the limbs.”
“Uh?”
*Sfone looks a little annoyed*
“A bit of wire. But I wasn’t sure, it was a long time ago.”
“Riiightt. We’re ... gonna go now. Err .... bye.”
*He legs it towards a small tent, inside some weird bloke with frizzy white hair is drooling over a piece of paper*
“Hello there Mr. Snuggly! What’s that you’ve got?”
*He holds up the piece of paper which is covered in hazy, insubstantial grey patches*
“This is fascinating! Look!”
“It’s a bunch of grey bits, Snuggly.”
“NO! You fool, these are areas where there’s some stuff under the ground!”
“Like ... dirt? And ... er ... stones?”
*Snuggly looks a little put-back*
“Well, possibly, but not necessarily. It might be plastic! Or, perhaps, sharp stones. Or lumps of dirt. Oh, why do I bother.”
*He picks up a map and jabs at two square plot*
“Just dig here you moron.”
“I don’t dig.”
“Well, you can clean the finds, then.”
*Laughs* “I DON’T think so”
“What DO you do, then!?”
“Not much. Err ... talk, look nice, be annoying.”
*Snuggly collapses. Tony legs it out to the field, where two trenches have suddenly appeared. He legs it over to the first trench where a bloke somewhere between farmer and mongoose has soiled himself with excitement*
“Well, BEARDS, what have you got there?”
“Oo, arr, Tony! Look here, what we’ve got a nice little bit of plastic, beautiful ain’t she?”
“Not ... really.”
“Oh, don’t say that, you’ll ‘urt her feelin’s!” *He strokes the plastic* “There, there my pretty, you’ll be okay. Don’t cry now.”
“Riiighht. Anything else?”
“Well, Tony! What we’ve done ‘ere is recreate what this bit o’ plastic would have looked like complete, with ‘er friends. Look!”
*The tiny piece of plastic appears on-screen and a chunky computer monitor evolves around it*
“What! It’s a bit of plastic! It could have come from anywhere! How d’you know it looked like that? It could have been from a vibrator for all you know!”
“No, Tony, no. That’s what it was.” *A tear rolls down his cheek* “Why’d you say that, Tony? Why? This purdy bit of plastic was very important, it was a computer, you’ve hurt it’s feelings. Big meanie. Say sorry.”
“What!? No, you big woman. Get back to work, and find something substantial. NOW!”
*Tony legs it over to a tent where (another) strange man is dressed up like a total freak*
“Hello there, FantasyMeister, what the hell are you wearing?”
“Well, Tony, as you can see I’ve recreated the traditional 21st century dress of gamers. A pair of ‘trainers’ worn with the laces undone so they’ll fall off when you walk; some ‘jeans’ which are four sizes to big for the occupant and could also fall down when you walk and this ‘hoody’ which is black with this weird plastic crap stuck to the front, which is meant to say Corn, but they’ve spelt it wrong and put a letter the wrong way around. As you can see - the gamers of old were all total uneducated idiots with very little brain power.”
“Wow, they really WERE stupid prricks, and I thought it was just a theory. Well, what have we over here?”
*FM looks very excited*
“This is an authentic replica of a gamer’s environment in the 21st century. The only seating in those days was an inflatable chair, given away in mass by our own global superpower SR themselves. This lump of plastic is a ‘TV’ which projects the game’s image; this other lump of plastic is a so-called ‘games console’ through which the games where played.”
“Ugh.”
“ExACTly! As well as being very stupid, gamers were very crude in their methods - they didn’t have subconscious VR brain chips in those days, if you can imagine such a thing, so had to resort to these various lumps of plastic for entertainment. These, and vibrators, as well.”
“As we well know. Sick little monkeys.”
*Two days later*
“Well! We’re at the end of our dig, finally, and we’ve found this.”
*The camera point at a big pile of plastic which has been stuck together with glue and selotape to form a portaloo. BEARDS is sulking in a corner.*
“It’s a bog. Perhaps used in conjunction with games. But most probably not.”
*Tony legs it to nowhere in particular*
“So, what have we learnt? One thing for sure - 21st century gamers were all stupid, narrow-minded, moronic clueless fashion disasters. Yes, ALL of them. Thank God they’re all dead. Come on FM, let’s go eat chicken.”
************
Short but sweet.
Perhaps
Thankee children,
FFF
C'est genial!
:-)
:-)
Cheers Foreman.
Nice one FFF!!!
=D
=D
I though I got you down just right : )
*claps like a heritic seal from captivity on a series of different steroids*
I liked.
Especially my contribution, yeh that was excellent stuff as usual.
I liked.
Especially my contribution, yeh that was excellent stuff as usual.
Heh that was pretty funny stuff mate :-)
It's a mum thang. So I usually catch a bit of it.
Maybe she fancies that farmer bloke.
Cheers for the read - i was quite impressed with myself, I wrote it in about 45 minutes.
Maybe she fancies that farmer bloke.
Cheers for the read - i was quite impressed with myself, I wrote it in about 45 minutes.
Heh, I liked this.
I liked it a lot.
Good stuff mate.
I did infact watch some of the Time Team special thing.
And I'm guessing you did too, judging by some of the similarities to people in it...
:-D
I liked it a lot.
Good stuff mate.
I did infact watch some of the Time Team special thing.
And I'm guessing you did too, judging by some of the similarities to people in it...
:-D
*A muddy field somewhere in England between towering neo-metropolises A man is standing in his wellies, looking overly-excited*
“Hello! And welcome to Time Team, I’m Tony. We’ve finally been given permission to dig up this muddy field in our search for ancient computing technology. Amazing!”
*The camera zooms out to reveal a strange, twitchy man rocking back and forward on his heels*
“This is Sfone, he found something interesting here a few years back. Is that right?”
“Man may search out the answers ‘til he is old and frail, but until the perpetual movement halts and flesh falls, weary, nothing shall be found.”
“Huh?”
“I found it by accident.”
“Ooo-kayy then What did you find?”
“The nature of objects and how they are perceived by the mortal can only be complete when time’s hidden secrets are finally unlocked. Research into the unknown can often perplex the master philosopher, it takes an inquisitive child to discover what the years have hidden. My limited edification on the subject, and the clouded mind of men - fogged by pretence and lies - allowed me to know the matter I had unearthed was but the means to link the mind to the limbs.”
“Uh?”
*Sfone looks a little annoyed*
“A bit of wire. But I wasn’t sure, it was a long time ago.”
“Riiightt. We’re ... gonna go now. Err .... bye.”
*He legs it towards a small tent, inside some weird bloke with frizzy white hair is drooling over a piece of paper*
“Hello there Mr. Snuggly! What’s that you’ve got?”
*He holds up the piece of paper which is covered in hazy, insubstantial grey patches*
“This is fascinating! Look!”
“It’s a bunch of grey bits, Snuggly.”
“NO! You fool, these are areas where there’s some stuff under the ground!”
“Like ... dirt? And ... er ... stones?”
*Snuggly looks a little put-back*
“Well, possibly, but not necessarily. It might be plastic! Or, perhaps, sharp stones. Or lumps of dirt. Oh, why do I bother.”
*He picks up a map and jabs at two square plot*
“Just dig here you moron.”
“I don’t dig.”
“Well, you can clean the finds, then.”
*Laughs* “I DON’T think so”
“What DO you do, then!?”
“Not much. Err ... talk, look nice, be annoying.”
*Snuggly collapses. Tony legs it out to the field, where two trenches have suddenly appeared. He legs it over to the first trench where a bloke somewhere between farmer and mongoose has soiled himself with excitement*
“Well, BEARDS, what have you got there?”
“Oo, arr, Tony! Look here, what we’ve got a nice little bit of plastic, beautiful ain’t she?”
“Not ... really.”
“Oh, don’t say that, you’ll ‘urt her feelin’s!” *He strokes the plastic* “There, there my pretty, you’ll be okay. Don’t cry now.”
“Riiighht. Anything else?”
“Well, Tony! What we’ve done ‘ere is recreate what this bit o’ plastic would have looked like complete, with ‘er friends. Look!”
*The tiny piece of plastic appears on-screen and a chunky computer monitor evolves around it*
“What! It’s a bit of plastic! It could have come from anywhere! How d’you know it looked like that? It could have been from a vibrator for all you know!”
“No, Tony, no. That’s what it was.” *A tear rolls down his cheek* “Why’d you say that, Tony? Why? This purdy bit of plastic was very important, it was a computer, you’ve hurt it’s feelings. Big meanie. Say sorry.”
“What!? No, you big woman. Get back to work, and find something substantial. NOW!”
*Tony legs it over to a tent where (another) strange man is dressed up like a total freak*
“Hello there, FantasyMeister, what the hell are you wearing?”
“Well, Tony, as you can see I’ve recreated the traditional 21st century dress of gamers. A pair of ‘trainers’ worn with the laces undone so they’ll fall off when you walk; some ‘jeans’ which are four sizes to big for the occupant and could also fall down when you walk and this ‘hoody’ which is black with this weird plastic crap stuck to the front, which is meant to say Corn, but they’ve spelt it wrong and put a letter the wrong way around. As you can see - the gamers of old were all total uneducated idiots with very little brain power.”
“Wow, they really WERE stupid prricks, and I thought it was just a theory. Well, what have we over here?”
*FM looks very excited*
“This is an authentic replica of a gamer’s environment in the 21st century. The only seating in those days was an inflatable chair, given away in mass by our own global superpower SR themselves. This lump of plastic is a ‘TV’ which projects the game’s image; this other lump of plastic is a so-called ‘games console’ through which the games where played.”
“Ugh.”
“ExACTly! As well as being very stupid, gamers were very crude in their methods - they didn’t have subconscious VR brain chips in those days, if you can imagine such a thing, so had to resort to these various lumps of plastic for entertainment. These, and vibrators, as well.”
“As we well know. Sick little monkeys.”
*Two days later*
“Well! We’re at the end of our dig, finally, and we’ve found this.”
*The camera point at a big pile of plastic which has been stuck together with glue and selotape to form a portaloo. BEARDS is sulking in a corner.*
“It’s a bog. Perhaps used in conjunction with games. But most probably not.”
*Tony legs it to nowhere in particular*
“So, what have we learnt? One thing for sure - 21st century gamers were all stupid, narrow-minded, moronic clueless fashion disasters. Yes, ALL of them. Thank God they’re all dead. Come on FM, let’s go eat chicken.”
************
Short but sweet.
Perhaps
Thankee children,
FFF
“Hello! And welcome to Time Team, I’m Tony. We’ve finally been given permission to dig up this muddy field in our search for ancient computing technology. Amazing!”
*The camera zooms out to reveal a strange, twitchy man rocking back and forward on his heels*
“This is Sfone, he found something interesting here a few years back. Is that right?”
“Man may search out the answers ‘til he is old and frail, but until the perpetual movement halts and flesh falls, weary, nothing shall be found.”
“Huh?”
“I found it by accident.”
“Ooo-kayy then What did you find?”
“The nature of objects and how they are perceived by the mortal can only be complete when time’s hidden secrets are finally unlocked. Research into the unknown can often perplex the master philosopher, it takes an inquisitive child to discover what the years have hidden. My limited edification on the subject, and the clouded mind of men - fogged by pretence and lies - allowed me to know the matter I had unearthed was but the means to link the mind to the limbs.”
“Uh?”
*Sfone looks a little annoyed*
“A bit of wire. But I wasn’t sure, it was a long time ago.”
“Riiightt. We’re ... gonna go now. Err .... bye.”
*He legs it towards a small tent, inside some weird bloke with frizzy white hair is drooling over a piece of paper*
“Hello there Mr. Snuggly! What’s that you’ve got?”
*He holds up the piece of paper which is covered in hazy, insubstantial grey patches*
“This is fascinating! Look!”
“It’s a bunch of grey bits, Snuggly.”
“NO! You fool, these are areas where there’s some stuff under the ground!”
“Like ... dirt? And ... er ... stones?”
*Snuggly looks a little put-back*
“Well, possibly, but not necessarily. It might be plastic! Or, perhaps, sharp stones. Or lumps of dirt. Oh, why do I bother.”
*He picks up a map and jabs at two square plot*
“Just dig here you moron.”
“I don’t dig.”
“Well, you can clean the finds, then.”
*Laughs* “I DON’T think so”
“What DO you do, then!?”
“Not much. Err ... talk, look nice, be annoying.”
*Snuggly collapses. Tony legs it out to the field, where two trenches have suddenly appeared. He legs it over to the first trench where a bloke somewhere between farmer and mongoose has soiled himself with excitement*
“Well, BEARDS, what have you got there?”
“Oo, arr, Tony! Look here, what we’ve got a nice little bit of plastic, beautiful ain’t she?”
“Not ... really.”
“Oh, don’t say that, you’ll ‘urt her feelin’s!” *He strokes the plastic* “There, there my pretty, you’ll be okay. Don’t cry now.”
“Riiighht. Anything else?”
“Well, Tony! What we’ve done ‘ere is recreate what this bit o’ plastic would have looked like complete, with ‘er friends. Look!”
*The tiny piece of plastic appears on-screen and a chunky computer monitor evolves around it*
“What! It’s a bit of plastic! It could have come from anywhere! How d’you know it looked like that? It could have been from a vibrator for all you know!”
“No, Tony, no. That’s what it was.” *A tear rolls down his cheek* “Why’d you say that, Tony? Why? This purdy bit of plastic was very important, it was a computer, you’ve hurt it’s feelings. Big meanie. Say sorry.”
“What!? No, you big woman. Get back to work, and find something substantial. NOW!”
*Tony legs it over to a tent where (another) strange man is dressed up like a total freak*
“Hello there, FantasyMeister, what the hell are you wearing?”
“Well, Tony, as you can see I’ve recreated the traditional 21st century dress of gamers. A pair of ‘trainers’ worn with the laces undone so they’ll fall off when you walk; some ‘jeans’ which are four sizes to big for the occupant and could also fall down when you walk and this ‘hoody’ which is black with this weird plastic crap stuck to the front, which is meant to say Corn, but they’ve spelt it wrong and put a letter the wrong way around. As you can see - the gamers of old were all total uneducated idiots with very little brain power.”
“Wow, they really WERE stupid prricks, and I thought it was just a theory. Well, what have we over here?”
*FM looks very excited*
“This is an authentic replica of a gamer’s environment in the 21st century. The only seating in those days was an inflatable chair, given away in mass by our own global superpower SR themselves. This lump of plastic is a ‘TV’ which projects the game’s image; this other lump of plastic is a so-called ‘games console’ through which the games where played.”
“Ugh.”
“ExACTly! As well as being very stupid, gamers were very crude in their methods - they didn’t have subconscious VR brain chips in those days, if you can imagine such a thing, so had to resort to these various lumps of plastic for entertainment. These, and vibrators, as well.”
“As we well know. Sick little monkeys.”
*Two days later*
“Well! We’re at the end of our dig, finally, and we’ve found this.”
*The camera point at a big pile of plastic which has been stuck together with glue and selotape to form a portaloo. BEARDS is sulking in a corner.*
“It’s a bog. Perhaps used in conjunction with games. But most probably not.”
*Tony legs it to nowhere in particular*
“So, what have we learnt? One thing for sure - 21st century gamers were all stupid, narrow-minded, moronic clueless fashion disasters. Yes, ALL of them. Thank God they’re all dead. Come on FM, let’s go eat chicken.”
************
Short but sweet.
Perhaps
Thankee children,
FFF