Before this tale begins to unfold, I think it prudent to say, that all characters portrayed in this tale are sort of fictitious. Any resemblance to people, either living or Spirit is completely accidental. NOT.
Although mischievous, I do not have a malicious bone in my body. Having said that. Should any injury befall the reader through my efforts to entertain them, regrettable though they may be, will not be taken seriously should it go to court.
Have a nice day! And thanks for wading through all this. (Perhaps it may have been a good idea to have printed this bit at the end.) Oh well.
I dedicate this tale to my long-suffering wife Jennifer. I'm not sure quite what it is she suffers from, but it has been long... Very. I love you.
I would also like to mention Terry Pratchett, Robert Rankin and Piers Anthony. The blame for inspiring the following meanderings lays fairly and squarely at their feet. Both Pratchett and Rankin are completely crazy with a totally irreverent sense of humour while Anthony has an imagination beyond description. I thoroughly recommend their work and heartily thank them all for the entertainment.
[This story was submitted in one piece by the author. It has been divided into multiple chapters to provide compatibility with wider range of browsers, so chapter limits have no meanings. Storiesonline]