Natboff! One Million Years of Stupidity. Andy Stanton

around Lamonic Bibber,’ said Old King Thunderbelly to himself. ‘How can a crow possibly get over a wall? It’s impossible. And I will put some guards at the entrances and I will give them strict orders not to let in any crows. My God, I’m crafty!’ he said, rubbing his hands together, which was the first time a crafty person had ever rubbed his hands together to show he was doing crafty things.

      ‘Now, how will I build a wall?’ mused Old King Thunderbelly. ‘I know! I’ll get my friend

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      John to do it for me.’

      Now this was certainly a wonderful idea, because Old King Thunderbelly’s friend John was a famous wall-builder, known far and wide for his enormous farts. And also for how good he was at building walls.

      So Old King Thunderbelly took out some bits of wood and a hammer and a few bells and he invented the world’s first telephone. Then he invented the world’s second telephone. Then he went round to his friend John’s house and gave John a telephone.

      ‘What’s this?’ said John.

      ‘You’ll see,’ winked Old King Thunderbelly. Then he went back to his palace and dialled John’s number.

      ‘Hello,’ said Old King Thunderbelly. ‘Is that John?’

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      ‘No, it’s his wife,’ said the voice at the other end of the line. ‘I’ll just go and get John, he’s having a fart in the shed.’

      ‘OK,’ said Old King Thunderbelly.

      Soon John came to the phone.

      ‘Hello,’ said John.

      ‘Hello,’ said Old King Thunderbelly. ‘Do you like this new invention? It’s called a “telephone”.’

      ‘Yeah, it’s brilliant,’ said John. ‘Now, what can I do for you today, Your Highness? Do you want me to build a wall or something?’

      ‘Yes,’ said Old King Thunderbelly. ‘I want you to build a wall around Lamonic Bibber.’

      ‘Why, have you accepted a challenge from a crow or something?’ said John.

      ‘John, you know me well,’ laughed Old King Thunderbelly. ‘I certainly have.’

      About three weeks later the wall was finally

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      finished. John had worked day and night to build

      it, and it was probably the best wall he’d ever built.

      It was made out of stone and it was really high and

      there were spikes on it and every few hundred yards

      there were signs saying ‘NO CROWS ALLOWED’

      and ‘KEEP OUT IF YOU ARE A CROW’. There

      were two gates set into the wall and at each gate

      stood two beefy guards, each holding a sharp silver

      sword, except for one of them who had forgotten his

      sword and was holding a massive garlic bread covered

      in tinfoil instead and hoping nobody would notice.

      ‘Now let’s see that crow try and get in,’

      laughed Old King Thunderbelly.

      Presently a traveller came up to the South Gate

      of the Wall of Lamonic Bibber. He was dressed in

      a fine coat of feathers and he had a beak and two

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      wings and he was about the size of a crow.

      ‘Hello,’ said the traveller to the guards. ‘ Do you mind if I come in through your gate?’

      ‘No, go ahead, we don’t care,’ said the

      guards. ‘Go right in.’

      But as the traveller

      stepped forward, the

      first guard thought

      of something.

      ‘Hang on a minute,’ he said.

      ‘You’re not a

      crow, are you?’

      ‘Who, me?’

      laughed the traveller. ‘No, of course not.’

      ‘OK, sorry to bother you,’ said the first

      guard. But just as the traveller was about to step

      inside, the second guard thought of something.

      ‘Hang on,’ he said, brandishing his sword.

      ‘You are a crow. Go away! It’s no crows allowed,

      those are our orders!’

      ‘Blast those guards,’ sulked the crow as he

      walked off. ‘They’re cleverer than they look. How

      am I going to get into Lamonic Bibber now?’

      Well, that crow thought for a year and a

      day, and it was the most boring year and a day

      he’d ever spent. But eventually he came up with

      an absolutely brilliant idea, and when he came

      up with it a light bulb appeared

      above his head, and that’s

      how electricity was invented.

      ‘I’ve got it!’ said the crow.

      About five years later, Old King Thunderbelly was sitting in the castle courtyards, having a sandwich and congratulating himself on outwitting the crow.

      ‘That was totally easy,’ he said to himself. ‘That wall did the trick no problem. It’s been years and years now and I still haven’t seen that crow around here.’

      ‘Oh, haven’t you?’ said a voice at that very moment. And looking down, Old King Thunderbelly was astonished to see none other than the crow himself, the very crow he’d been trying to keep out all this time!

      ‘How did you get in here?’ said Old King

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      Thunderbelly. ‘Surely my wall should have

      kept you out?’

      ‘Well might you think so, king,’ said the

      crow. ‘But there’s one thing you forgot about

      us crows,’ he continued, flapping his powerful

      wings triumphantly. ‘We are excellent at

      digging. I have spent the past five years digging

      a tunnel under that wall with my beak and

      finally I have won the challenge and you must

      give me all the land of the kingdom and let me

      marry your daughter and you must be my slave

      forever and fetch me rare minerals.’

      ‘I don’t remember saying anything about

      that,’ said Old King Thunderbelly. ‘But OK.’

      And that is how the elephant got its trunk.

      THE END

      9 700 AD 9

      Life and

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      Times Of

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      Saint

      Follican