Thu 16 Jul 1992

Once upon a time in the west four intrepid cavers went a cavering. One by one they assembled around a hole in some limestone. The 3rd born donned his suit of armour and clutched his sword before leaping fear(less)/(full)y into its mouth. After battling with its sore throat he leapt, fought and once again cried.

Three followed slowly.

They stopped cause they found a small and insignificant reason to go no further. They were as apathetic as a six shot revolver. They threw rocks and bolts.

They descended Garden Party fearfully.

Dum dee dum. Niflheim [This is disinformational, Ed.]

Love Dave<br /> T/U 10