Never Ending Story

The old Womble froze on the spot as he realized what a terrible mistake he had made. What had he said?

"Everybody who was HERE ALREADY must get on the next train ---"

CALAMITY!!! He should have said "Everybody who JUST GOT OFF THE TRAIN --" for how could they get off if they didn't get on ten minutes later?

He had ordered the wrong set of ghouls onto the train and set off a cataclysmic chain reaction in time. The train was about to self-destruct
 
Fortunately the train stopped at the lights and the doors opened. Thinking they were at their destinations all the ghouls got off the train and assembled by the track.

The train started up and sped off into the distance, when suddenly there was a huge explosion and carriages and metal flew from the train thrown in all directions by the destruction.

The ghouls were dumb struck and couldn't believe their luck. Was this an accident or an evil plan....
 
They didn't have to wait long for an answer.

"Well what have we here?" came a disembodied voice from the gloom. "You didn't think you could escape from Hell so easily now did you?"

Gordon groaned. "Wogan!"
 
Yes Wogan was waiting with a manic grin and baited breath.
"You all believed that this was the end of the line eh?"

He reached into his pocket and pulled out a script. He started reading his lines and it soon became clear to everyone that he was in the middle of a scene in a film or some other production.

Then all became crystal clear, the train that they were travelling on was in fact a tram and they had all taken part in the 50th Coronation Street crash.

Some ghouls felt really proud as they had liked following the soap when in another life.

Gordon was not happy though "How come Wogan ends up on every programme. Has he got something that the rest of us are lacking?"
 
At that moment something amazing happened; Wogan fell silent. Then he fell flat on his face, motionless. Intrigued, Gordon stepped forwards.

"Careful!" said another disembodied voice. "A thing like that will have back-up power."

Yudi stepped out of the gloom and pulled a viciously pointed piece of granite out of Wogan's back. And then, as the Borg ghouls cringed, it calmly tore the carcass open to reveal a mass of wires, pipes and cogs.

"A robot!" gasped Gordon. "He's an effing robot!"
 
our suspicions have been confirmed!
With that statement, there was a buzzing noise, some blue flashes from the multitude of tangled wires, a puff of smoke as the Android Wogan sprang back into life, singing the floral dance in Japanese, everyone was agog, they could hardly understand it when sang in English.
 
Or was it Japanese? "I know that dialect" said Womble. "It's Old Umpish."

"Just a minute" said Yudi and started fiddling with the wires.

"And counting down the UK top twenty, this year's Eurovision entry will be --

High-way to Hell! High-way to Hell! And the train now arriving at platforms five, six, seven and eight is coming in sideways."

The android let out a raucous cackle and tried to grab Yudi but it was no match for Ossi reflexes. The Borg ghouls fainted as, with a final cry of "Supermatch game", its head rolled away down the track.

A small voice broke the shocked silence: "There really is a train coming."
 
it was Tiny Tim just finishing the local Scrooge movie. Wogan always wanted to act, but nobody would ever pay him to perform.

"Now" said Tim " Isn't there enough hatred and war in the world or planets. Surely at this festive time of year we can hold a truce and all get on together for the next couple of weeks".

There was a stunned silence and then Yudi turned and said....
 
"I'm through but I don't know where. It's some kind of store room and it's full of these. You can eat them."

The old Womble's eyes lit up as Yudi held out a strawberry creme.
 
the quality is just up my street, he exclaimed, are there any large purple ones left? he asked.
 
Meanwhile, back at the branch ---

-- the Glasgow branch of Sweets-R-Us, Pick-n-Mix was going like hot cakes and the manager was heading down to the stock room to find out why a new batch had not arrived.

"What happened to you?" she asked of the young shop assistant, who had only been taken on to cope with the Christmas rush. "You look like you've seen a ghost!"

"S-S-S-Cybermen! Y-Yeti! G-G-Gordon R-Ramsay!"

"GORDON EFFING RAMSAY! IN MY STOCK ROOM!!!"
 
yes, and he`s gobbling all the sweeties, then send for the krankies they would know how to deal with this............
 
"Maybe they would" the manager replied "but they've gone down with seasonal pantomime disorder, along with every other comedy double act in the country. This is a job for --"

At that moment, an ephemeral Womble appeared in the stairwell. (Owing to the properties of sideways time, he was fading in and out of view.) "Got any more strawberry cremes?"

"That does it!" said the manager, turning to the trembling assistant. "Give me that phone."

"W-who you gonna call?"
 
"not Terry Wogan, that's for sure."

He decided the best course of action was contacting the local police. They should have the ways and means to solve this kind of problem.

The trouble is not all the problems are of an earthly nature......
 
as DS McGooliegrab, a down-to earth copper with no time for ghost stories, would soon find out.

"Amateurs by the looks of it." he said scornfully as he examined the hole. "They were obviously trying to tunnel into the bank vault next door. You say they wore costumes and they took all the strawberry cremes. What did they look like exactly?"
 
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