There was once a Norseman named Klefid. In fact, there still is one. He just doesn't like to talk about it much these days. He had a wife called Izgolle. The word "ysgol" is pronounced the same way and means "school" in Welsh, but Izgolle was not Welsh. She came from France.

Klefid and Izgolle first met each other in the waiting room of the local dentist's. You may be wondering how a dentist can be local to someone living in a Norse kinda place and France. But this was in the days when there weren't many dentists around, so people had to travel hundreds of miles if they wanted to watch television with the volume muted. At this time there was a plague sweeping throughout the remote controls of the universe, where the mute buttons stopped working. But the plague hadn't yet managed to break into dentist's surgeries, because there were always lots of protestors about the Newbury bypass outside, making it impossible.

Klefid and Izgolle got talking by arguing over which channel to watch. They could either see a documentary about earwax on BBC1, the film version of the entire Bible on BBC2, two blokes smashing up a CD player on Channel 3 or a plug block being dissected on Channel 4. Channel 5 had not yet been invented. Klefid wanted to watch the ice-skating competition in Brazil and Izgolle wanted to watch the news from the world of floorboards.

After a bit of arguing, they decided to settle for the international grizzly bear skiing on MTV. And the rest, as they say, is history.

But in case you were wondering, an announcement soon came over the loud speaker system that sounded like "Gock libbon polyrebta quef." In fact it meant "Mr Klefid, please." So he went downstairs to the surgery where he was attacked by an Irish Wolfhound.

Izgolle continued to watch television and simultaneously listen to an enchanting purple ring binder which one of the other people in the waiting room had brought in to have his kidneys checked. The purple ring binder didn't have a lot to say for himself, except that felt tip pens were not a football team. Izgolle knew that already, but nevertheless, she thanked the ring binder for reminding her. (As it turned out, the ring binder's kidneys were working fine, but he had a perpetual nose bleed. The dentist told him not to worry, so the ring binder didn't, got a degree in trainspotting and became a civil servant. Forty years later he had a nervous breakdown, but was consoled by the portable hedge trimmers that had been lying in his fishpond since 1979.)

Izgolle then heard a message over the loud speaker system that sounded vaguely like "Frumption gwet buvont cleck". In fact it meant "Ms Izgolle, please", but she couldn't be certain. In her native language (Serbo-Croat) it meant "The large bespectacled man ate an egg shell and as a result was sick all over his mother-in-law's Persian rug", but she got the feeling that wasn't what was meant at all.

In the surgery she made friends with a mouse mat which enjoyed being a 101% acryllic sweatshirt in its spare time. She thanked the dentist, gave him a plum pudding (which was customary in those days) and left the surgery.

Outside she saw Klefid, waiting for her. So she asked him, "Where is your sword?"

"It is in the dishwasher," he replied. "Which is pink."

This seemed like a reasonable enough explanation for Izgolle so they went to the undertakers next door and bought a toothbrush.


Five days later Klefid and Izgolle decided to get married, since neither of them appreciated fridge magnets. They decided this while sitting in a corrrrrrn field near East Grinstead.

Izgolle thought that it was only correct to tell her father of this plan before she and Klefid tied the knot. They didn't have a rope, but they could easily obtain one from the nearest supermarket.

Izgolle's father lived in a dustbin in Middlesbrough. He was a very rich man, but he believed in doing everything he could in order to smell like a fish factory. He no longer lived with Izgolle's mother who still lived in Greenland, because the two of them could not agree on what colour to paint their new machete. When it arrived, it was orange, which was completely despicable, since they often mistook it for a dragonfly and consumed it on a regular basis.

Izgolle's father was called Brian, which was a surprisingly queer name for such a sensible man. He liked to read the Financial Times during long sessions of standing on his elbows and going, "Eeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeek!"

The journey to Middlesbrough was long and perilous. On the way there, Klefid was forced to slay many friendly dragons (is there really an 'r' in that? - ed) (of course there is, you imbecile with purple shoelaces! What does 'dagons' mean? - Zed). This meant that the RSPCD - the Rubbish School Painting Crosses on Doors - was very annoyed with Klefid and threw many hairbrushes at him. He managed to keep his sense of humour though, and often entertained Izgolle with tales from the Keith keeper. Keith was a charming pocket computer with his initials on. Klefid had known him when he was a daffodil, but now he was unable to talk since his elder brother had put him in a coal mine. The elder brother was a cruel vindictive sort that eventually got reported to the gnomes with trousers on and sentenced to ten years in the library. But Keith remained in the mine for sixty three and a half more years, with only the woodland octopuses to keep him company, who threw him plenty of Jaffa Cakes.

When they finally arrived in Middlesbrough, Izgolle tried to find her father's dustbin. Over the years, it had become covered with snakes, so she was afraid to take the lid off, until Klefid had given all the snakes a tin of spam. Klefid happily obliged and the snakes happily spent the next twenty days trying to work out how to open the spam. Finally one of them decided to use some vinegar. Unfortunately the vinegar had passed its sell-by-date, and they had to use tomato ketchup instead. This was not quite as effective in getting the green dye out of Mrs Mallone's wig, but it sufficed.


Like most people, Izgolle had a father. But you already knew that, didn't you? Anyway, as a child, Izgolle and her father had never got along. (That is, when her father was a child.) She was always wanting to play with Mr Snodgrass, but her father wouldn't let her for he feared many courtyards. Therefore, their relationship had always been rather strained, like the koala tea of Mersey, but that's another story.

Klefid removed the lid of the dustbin, only to find that Izgolle's father was not there! Instead he found a note, among the coat hangers that half-filled the dustbin like mercury. (?) The note said :

"Dearest person who reads this,

I would like to inform you that I have been kicked out of my dustbin because it shall be demolished tomorrow by the fine loving criminals of Leamington Spa. I am now living on a cabbage, but don't look for me, I'll look for you.

Sincerely yours,

Bryan."

"That's strange," remarked Izgolle. "I always Bryan had an 'I'."

"Yes, most people do have eyes," agreed Klefid. "But blindness is in the eye of the beholder, and we must not dwell in this land of tyranny and Venus fly traps."

Izgolle was not so convinced. "He really ought to know," she said, worried. "We were not best friends, or even mail boxes, but I did agree to tell him when I was going to get married."

"Fear not," said Klefid. "Perchance we could fax him when we arrive in Australia."

"He would not go through the fax machine," Izgolle pointed out. "Anyway, you are right. We must go to Australia and forget about our troublesome sock drawers."

"I am not right!" protested Klefid. "I was Klefid last time I looked!"

"Is that your name then?" said Izgolle. "I am Izgolle. To the airport!"