Thursday, 4 December 2014

Part One of Hogwarts v Jurassic World.



Due to a very very small increase in cyberspace elsewhere of Harry Potter based followers. I feel I need to write another short alternative tale of Hogwarts for these rather specialized punters. As they say in the docks of Tiger Bay, on the road to Mandalay from Bombay to Santa Fé, o'er the hills and far away . . .  A mans gotta do what a mans gotta do. . . If you are not a fan of Harry Potter, it's OK because the link is a little tenuous. 


All the young wizards at Hogwarts were getting rather excited as it was the day of the Christmas Coach trip to somewhere exciting. Well that is not always as easy at it might first appear because these are wizards and they tend to have a slightly more interesting life than most. What with all that flying about on broomsticks and hunting dragons and the like in the magic forest and the various other activities they get up to with frogs, snakes and owls. 

As they all climbed aboard the coaches the young wizards all muttered and complained and said why can’t we just fly there on magic carpets like last year it was much more fun. But the headmaster Harry Potter explained that Jurassic World was in fact a muggle attraction and they had to behave and abide by the rules of engagement when mingling with the muggle masses.  And anyway Professor Franklin F F Frankenzompires  Jurassic World might be a muggle attraction but Professor Frankenzompire was well and truly old school wizard (very old school) and would be rather annoyed if anyone started waving their wands about in public; to which several young wizards sniggered.

After what seemed like no time at all (I suspect there may have been a bit of magic going on) the convoy of old coaches arrived in the huge coach park of the Jurassic World complex where the young wizards immediately headed off to buy Pterodactyl Burgers and Chipiasaur Fries all covered in Cretaceous Sauce (YUM) . . .

As Harry and his daughter,  Lily Luna wandered round the various sights, Harry insisting that dinosaurs are not good pets and are rubbish at doing tricks, even simple ones like balancing chickens on their heads, they noticed a large flock of flamingos.  As they did so a voice behind them said

O god it Must be that Girl again I recognise all those flamingos, it must be Alice and Higgs and probably that stupid White Rabbit I bet. . . . .  The voice of course was that of Hermione.

But before Harry could respond another voice could be heard that drew Harry’s attention to something else.

Headmaster sir sir sir sir sir its Harrison Ford-Cortina sir sir sir he has sort of had a bit of an accident sir.
As Harry looks off into the distance he can see a huge crowd rushing towards him and behind that is Harrison Ford-Cortina only he is not his normal self, he is looking a little more like a Tyrannosaurus Rex than he did when he got on the coach this morning.

AH DAMN says Harry
WOW DAD can I have Harrison Ford-Cortina As a Pet says Lily Luna HE’S COOL.

Well Master Higgs the White Rabbit did say it would be fun to turn up here and see what was going to happen, I DON'T think anyone or anything has eaten anything or anyone yet said Alice who along with Young Higgs and the White Rabbit were standing on the roof of the monorail stop to avoid the stampeding crowd as it headed towards the main exit.

HELLO HARRY shouted Young Higgs at Harry who was now hiding behind a large fibreglass Ichthyopterygia along with Lily Luna, Hermione and several young wizard pupils as they attempt to avoid screaming muggles as they panic.


Then as it gets quieter and the panicked crowd vanishes off into the distance and Harrison Ford-Cortina growls at Harry Potter in an attempt to explain it was nothing to do with him. The tall and terrifying image of a mad demonic Wizard appears out of a large cloud of wizardly cloudy stuff; it is none other than the awesome and imposing spectacle of Professor Franklin F F Frankenzompire himself, looking a little deranged and annoyed.


To be continued       

Saturday, 29 November 2014

Aliens, Black Friday, 40 inch Televisions, Conspiracies and Professor Quatermass.



After many years it appears the so called Black Friday chaos finally arrived here in Britain yesterday, a place not used to Black Friday. And it has come to my notice thanks to the very informative Bumferry Hogart that all was not as it might appear from a distance. You see Mr Hogart or Mr H as we like to call him was brave enough to venture out into the wilds of sale land and found folk acting normally and even smiling. To those of us watching the news this was a shock as on the BBC news we got to watch massed crowds fighting in the playing fields of England . . . sorry I mean the aisles of Tesco as they fought to the last man over 40 inch television sets. This is interesting because (as I have already discussed with Mr H) a couple of years ago when the good folk of Britain in certain places (cities) rioted one of the main items targeted by the looters was 40 inch television sets.

In fact 40 inch television sets seem to have a strange effect on the public and the people who own them. So I have had to conclude from all the evidence that has been placed in front of me that the minds of man has been subconsciously manipulated by Aliens of a higher intelligence many millions of years ago to desire a 40 inch television.  Of course the Aliens have been waiting quietly for us to get to the stage where our own intelligence is good enough to develop the mass produced 40 inch Flat Screen Television. Which means mankind has now finally reached a point where we now sit and worship these 40 inch large shiny black monoliths in our living rooms. Now ask yourself does this remind you of something, a film maybe called . . . 2001 a Space Odyssey. 

You see these large black 40 inch screen technological devices are more than a simple television set they are the incubators of the dormant offspring of the Aliens who will at some point leap out of the screen and into the body and mind of the humans who have been sent into a comatose state by watching hours of talent shows and minor celebs doing stuff like dancing and eating armadillos or Dads Army. 

And once the humans have been assimilated and genetically realigned they will join the army of existing aliens who insist those of us who do not yet own 40 inch televisions should get one because it’s a must for every modern home. This way it is only a matter of time until we are all taken over and Mankind as we know it is changed forever becoming Aliens just like the ones you see on the TV. . . . . . .


I blame that Professor Quatermass. . . . 

Friday, 28 November 2014

The Big Questions I Can't Answer (or a Quiz Night)




I am off at a quiz night tonight to very possibly be asked to answer questions, as that is the general nature of quiz nights. I am not a silly unknowledgeable chap, however I am not good at answering questions at random out of the blue, it is not what I do.  Also Quiz nights tend to have questions about popular television, I do not know much about popular television except most of it is rubbish and my poor old brain is confused by the fact it is popular. Quiz nights also have questions about sport and football, a game involving a round ball and played by chaps from abroad who earn huge amounts of money; one of whom once said something about Seagulls. . .  And popular music is in general another subject that tends to crop up at such events. . . I am also not good at popular music which these days seems to involve boy bands and folk who have won TV talent shows . . .  I have decided to answer all these particular questions with either  . . . Tiny Tim or Country Joe and the Fish . . . that way I stand a small chance of getting one question right.

The good news is this quiz night is to be held of Big Bills Greasy Fur Ball Café, the home of the greatest food in the world and at midpoint in the proceeding we all stop for chicken pie and chips unless you are a veggie in which case it’s the veggie option. This makes the humiliation of being last by several hundred points behind a mad old granny and her team of cats acceptable.  Sometimes a man has to do what a man has to do in order to consume the delights of great pies.


Of course this years blog theme which I keep departing from on an almost daily basis is The Big Questions, so it is more than a little ironic that I will be sitting blank faced, drinking orange juice shouting TINY TIM TINY TIM TINY TIM at my fellow team mates as they ponder on the question  . . . . Who was the last Governor-General of the Belgian Congo? and for a bonus point what was the name of his dog . . . . While they try and think if Baron Théophile Wahis was the last one or not because he was not that keen on dogs only to find out after that rather ironically (there will be much irony) he did have a small dog called Tiny Tim. . . . .  At which point I will look smug and nod with a knowing nod.  As I have said Tiny Tim must be the answer to something. I have a feeling he sang a cover of that famous Charles Dickens song . . .  Santa in Red. . . .  

Thursday, 27 November 2014

Steven Spielberg, Jurassic World and certain investment concerns about dinosaurs

As my few but loyal followers will know I have been cooking up brilliant ideas for the very nice Steven Spielberg now for about four years and in that time have thought of hundreds of them. Some of them probably even good ones, yes the law of averages states that I Rob Z Tobor is capable of thinking of good ideas, a bit like all those monkeys writing Shakespeare in the infinite voids of infinity.  So am I annoyed that the nice Mr Spielberg is doing a sneaky and churning out yet another dinosaur film, this time called Jurassic World well the answer is . . . . . . . . a bit.

And in order to understand just how improbable this film is it is important to go back to the beginning when some bright spark comes up with the idea of Jurassic World in the first place. So let us reflect on a man as he walks with purpose along the busy streets of Gotham City clutching his neat leather executive case heading towards the Gotham City Central Bank.




Hey hello Professor shouts a voice in the crowd as Professor Frankenstein busily pushes his way through the throng into the huge marble hall way of the Central Bank, its magnificent classical columns twinkling with the light of the halls chandeliers.

O hello Clark I am a bit late for an appointment at present so will see you later, I could have a great story for the paper. With that he waves and heads off towards the manager’s office, it is not good to be late when you want to borrow several million Dollars.

Professor Frankenstein you are on the dot please come straight in it is always good to see you. Says the banks Manager

Ah Thank you . . . you are very kind

Please take a seat and tell me how I can help you, although I have to warn you banking has changed in the last few years it is not like it was back in the good old days.

Yes I have a new plan. One greater than any of my previous plans and one that will make us all very very rich it’s a brilliant plan if I say so myself. But I will need to borrow several million dollars.

Well as I have said Banking is not what it was, but we are always keen to support good ideas tell me all about it.


Yes I want to build a world full of living dinosaurs and breed them in captivity it will attract millions of visitors and scientists from all over the world. . . . I thought I would call it Jurassic World.

AH . . . . Well Professor it sounds a bit like Jurassic Park to me and we know what happened with that and more than once I may add.

Yes OK it didn’t entirely work out as planned but this time it will be dead exciting . . . no pun intended. . . and entirely safe. . . . . Sort of.

You said that last time Professor and you told me that they would be small dinosaurs not huge things

Well they were smallish . . . . they just had big claws

Indeed and just how big will these dinosaurs be this time.

Welll mmmmmm maybe 70 to 90 feet long or so but with smaller claws.

Look I’m sorry Professor but the bank can’t afford to invest in more monsters we are not thought of well at present and your track record is a bit dodgy to say the least. I mean what happened to that chap you made with the bolt through his neck. And we invested in that King Kong which turned out to be a bad move, as did that bloke Indiana Jones and his Pyramid Scam. And if anyone mentions the creature from the black lagoon again I will hit them.

So it sounds like you are saying No

O what the hell we will give it a go what can really go wrong. . . . Sooner or later someone will get the hang of these dinosaurs, they cant all be super intelligent killing machines. I mean just how realistic is that,  After all even that nice Steven Spielberg would not be foolish enough  to make yet another of those films would he.

AH DAMN funny you should say that






THE END. . . . . . . . . . .