We were driving home tonight and one side of the road was closed, quite possibly as a result of the earth being thrown off its axis a bit last week.
There were so many people rushing home to catch the last three overs of the day that not all of our cars could get past the affected area before the temporary lights changed. As a result, many of us got stuck, blocking oncoming traffic.
To make matters worse, we then heard a siren. It was an ambulance and all the trapped cars had to somehow try and get out of the way. It was pandemonium.
As we pulled into a hedge, enraging a badger and inadvertently giving rise to untold subsequent destruction as a consequence, we realised why the ambulance was needed.
Clearly, one of the Lancashire-supporting ghosts that had newly arrived on this plane of existence had found out about the hundreds scored today by Shivnarine Chanderpaul and James Hildreth. Feeling understandably irate, it had chinned someone.
The County Championship will end this week, just so long as the world hasn’t ended before then. The excitement is ripping our reality apart at the seams.
When we got up this morning, we weren’t at all surprised to find that our jumper had fallen off the back of a chair and onto the floor. Combine increasing numbers of invaders from the spirit world with Simon Kerrigan taking 9-51 for Lancashire, winning the match against Hampshire with just four minutes to go, and it was inevitable that the world would be knocked off its axis.
This time the world was knocked off its axis such that a jumper fell off the back of a chair. How bad will it be next time?
We made ourself a cup of tea this morning, we started drinking it and then we went upstairs for a bit. When we came back down, the mug was empty. No-one else was in the house.
We know what you’re going to say. You’re going to say that we were half-asleep, drank the tea and either didn’t notice or forgot.
Well you’re wrong.
We have a finely tuned internal measurement system and we KNOW when we’ve finished a cup of tea. If we drink half a cup of tea first thing in the morning, we’re half a cup out all day long. We drink the first half of every subsequent cup, but then we feel like we’ve finished and stop. Only when we’re in the mood for our next brew do we realise our error, at which point we have to drink the remaining half a cup of cold tea (because you can’t leave it).
So what happened this morning? We’ll tell you what happened.
WG Grace’s ghost drank our cup of tea. That’s what happened.
Think about it. If you were WG Grace, wouldn’t you come back from the dead to see the last couple of matches of this season’s County Championship? Of course you would. And wouldn’t you really fancy a brew when you arrived? Unquestionably.
The County Championship is putting everyone in danger. There are ghosts in our midst. And they’re drinking our beverages.
We’re committed to documenting the effects of the climax of the County Championship, but we’re really starting to fear for our life now.
Last night, we heard screaming outside our house. It was these two girls and they were having a MAJOR disagreement. They were so shrieky, we could only really catch fragments of what was being said, but it was always ‘he did this’ or ‘he did that’. Clearly, they both had really strong feelings about some bloke.
This morning, when we went outside, one of the wheelie bins was out of position, almost as if a girl-shaped object had been thrown into it by someone who was in a blind rage.
There is one very obvious conclusion that can be reached about what happened.
These two girls were debating whether the stronger suit of Lancashire all-rounder Tom Smith was his batting or his bowling. Things always get out of hand when you touch on that subject, but it’s hard to avoid when he’s just scored 63 against Hampshire.
Okay, we don’t want you to worry, but things are really getting out of hand now. The nation is going FULLY MENTAL as we approach the climax of the County Championship. You’d better brace yourself, because the story that follows is pretty damn alarming.
Okay, so we were buying a sandwich yesterday. It was chicken and bacon on granary, but something terrible happened. We didn’t get any mayonnaise, even though we’d asked for it TWICE. It is quite clear what happened. The girl responsible for constructing the sandwich was obviously wondering whether Andre Adams would be able to make inroads into the Warwickshire batting line-up this week, thus indirectly helping Lancashire’s ailing title challenge.
Things are so out of control, it might be that we have to take some sort of action so as to prevent any deaths. We could storm the relevant county grounds armed with plastic swords or something. Our mate cut his finger while cleaning a bread knife once, so that’s why we’re saying no to real swords. But it’s up to you if you want to take the risk.