Half a croissant, on a plate, with a sign in front of it saying '50c'

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Baker Street Irregulars

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½bakers' Graveyard
Old bakers never die, they just smell that way
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Deep in a jungle, in a clearing accessible only by Hullaballoon or intercontinental trebuchet shot and ringed by vividly coloured, snow-covered mountains lies a place of awe and wonder... a resting place of unsurpassed beauty and serenity, all controlled by hidden banks of cat computers.

Every individual resting site is lovingly tended by miniature ninja gardeners, who gambol freely among the Flocking Road Cones, keeping the grasses short and sweet. They also spend a great deal of time winding clocks and tinkering with engine designs that rarely work as planned.

A fake waterfall splashes away to itself at one end, leading to a perpetual river that runs through the parkland, visiting each grave plot in turn. Small hovercraft, many of them filled with eels, navigate along the river, bristling with paintball guns, elaborate turning and stopping indicator systems and lighter-plug-powered coffee makers. The river disappears underground to be pumped back over the waterfall, which also houses the ninjas' bathhouse.

As you pass each plot a series of LEDs lights up on your hovercraft, spelling out the username of the resident, simultaneously transmitting the name, baking record and history of each by RFID, bluetooth, semaphore and a range of other methods of communication, including laser illumination onto the distant snowcaps.

Wherever you look, roving bands of pirates may be seen in the background, cutting long grass with water laser mowers, ultrasonic swords and real lightsabres. A smorgasbord of food awaits the visitor, often formed into unimaginable shapes, including some with distinctly sexual overtones.

In the distance, visible atop a small mountain of mighty cheese is the Doctor Fowler museum, just beyond the Potemkin village of Bristolz's greatest inventions and short of the Vale of Jerith. You may wish to run through the heavily forested 'Run Forest Run' of amazing proportions, while you're there. Take care, as its keepers allow no-one to pass through it unchallenged, bombarding them with massive rolling tumbleweeds unless they have learned the ancient art of Sign language Yodeling.

In any case, be assured that should you pass from this soulless, earthly existence, friends will greet you with open hearts and innumerable time-saving gadgets and devices to gladden the heart and please the eye.


UnaBubba, Dec 17 2007

[link]






       Déjà vu

globaltourniquet, Dec 17 2007
  

       Again. I tested the waters, as it were, before committing to a full-bodied dive.

UnaBubba, Dec 17 2007
  

       I understand.   

       I didn't, but perhaps I was less miffed in my temporary leave.

globaltourniquet, Dec 17 2007
  

       Que?

UnaBubba, Dec 18 2007
  

       Is "miffed" a U.S. term? I can't keep track anymore.   

       I was merely acknowledging my understanding of your two-account approach to returning, while considering that I just came back to the same account with aplomb (cf.) in spite of my elf, and that this was perhaps because I did not leave with the same miff level with which your illustrious elf did.

globaltourniquet, Dec 18 2007
  

       Oh, I was mightily miffed upon departure. Returning was a decision taken after much thought. It may yet prove to have been a wrong one.

UnaBubba, Dec 18 2007
  
      
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