From the undergrowth comes the sounds of cursing, hacking, some hammering and the furious oiling of hinges. Presently, there is a great crack following by some gargantuan and sinister creaking. There follows the sound of furious coughing that gently recedes, until a final colossal slamming brings silence back into the world.
It's been [checks; strewth!] well over a year since The Boy and I were cruelly and suddenly abducted by Scientologist Alien Terrorists and taken in stasis to their evil lair deep within Olympus Mons on Mars. There we were experimented upon for many gruelling hours; forced to watch daytime and reality TV for days on end, to eat nothing but McDonalds and Mars bars (not the same thing, btw) until we managed to escape their clutches.
We managed to lash together a pair of Mars rovers to make a space raft and, holding our breath, set course for Earth. Tragically, BoosterBoy took a meteorite to the face not two days out and was lost. No doubt he will turn up sooner or later; he was largely synthetic and oddly durable considering how little I paid for him.
The Palace had fallen into some disrepair during our incarceration, somewhat disproportionate to the period of time involved. It has taken some time to oil all the hinges and hack away the greenery and thorns that were choking the place.
More troubling was the state of the Twin Swords (of Beauty and Truth). Here, I took a leaf from the Book of Conan and after beating them off some rocks for a bit, they are now back to the lustrous and shiny best.
There has been some time for quite a lot of Unrighteousness to build up. So, let's to work.
