There follows below only a brief exceprt from the original text of A ’Dale of Two Cities which was posted on December 21, 2004. Due to circumstances beyond the control of mortal ’Dale (or hooman), the main body of the text – some 65 pages of it in fact – is no longer available. Therefore the reader is encouraged to enjoy what is left here and to relish the fact that it it is a lot shorter than the original, weightier tome.
by
Sarah and Obi
assisted by
their hooman, Bill
and as usual
with many heartfelt and well-deserved apologies to the great master
Charles Dickens
— I —
« The Period »
It was the best of times, it was the worst of times, it was the age of ’Dales, it was the age of foolishness, it was the epoch of belief, it was the epoch of incredulity, it was the season of Light, it was the season of Darkness, it was the spring of hope, it was the winter of despair, we had everything before us, we had nothing before us, we were all going direct to Heaven, we were all going direct the other way — in short, the period was so far like the present period, that some of its noisiest authorities insisted on its being received, for good or for evil, in the superlative degree of comparison only.
There had once been a king with a large jaw and a queen with a plain face on the throne of England; there was no king with a large jaw and no queen with a fair face, on the throne of France, neither hooman nor ’Dale. Thank goodness. In both countries it was clearer than crystal to the lords of the State preserves of kongs and giggly-wigglies, that things in general were settled for ever.
It was the year of Our Lord two thousand and four. Spiritual revelations were conceded to England at that favoured period, as at this. Mrs. Woofcott had recently attained her five-and-twentieth blessed birthday, of whom a prophetic private in the Life Guards had heralded the sublime appearance by announcing that arrangements were made for the swallowing up of London and Westminster.
Yada-yada-yada.
In short it was really boring.
Then the Airedaleans arrived and rewrote history ...
«««««««««« Prithee continue »»»»»»»»»»
At this point dear reader, please remember that this tale is written by two Airedales with some limited aid from their faithful hooman,
and thus this tale may be somewhat shorter than that grand original work which was its inspiration.
A lot shorter, in fact.
Mercifully so.
So without further ado — and at popular request — it will end shortly.
«««««««««« Almost done, good reader »»»»»»»»»»And so all of the loved and cherished Airedales lived happily ever after, pampered and allowed to counter-surf to their hearts' contents and able to have any treats their little tummies desired, while all the subservient hoomans fulfilled their every wish, and while all of the hated c*ts and politicians were most properly scourged and punished.
« The End »