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(CNRPS) English Muffins and a Pot of Tea


Uberstein

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Today was a new day, a day of civilization. In a mystical land known as "England", lived the race of Musculators, the most civil creatures yet to be discovered. It was common fashion to wear top hats and carry Opera glasses, and they were a true Christian society, where everyone went to Church on sunday, and one cannot forget the Queen.

But one had figured out just how to use this new radio thing they had invented, seeing how all the ships that washed up on shore with such devices were much too small to use, they kept them around, using them as paper weights or perhaps a work of art for the homestead. But aside from this ramble, one by the name of Dr. Herbert J. Picklesmith had figured out just how to use this device, and decided to invite whoever was on the other side to a delightful cup of tea and perhaps a crumpet. One must be civilized you know.

OOC: This is perfectly serious, it's a society of HUGE creatures...they are simply the British Steryotype. I thought "Hmm, why not actually give it a try? See what they are getting out of it."

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Every morning, Dr. Picklesmith send out an absolutely boring message on his radio, describing his breakfast and perhaps what he had scene outside his window when he woke up. Many of his peers were getting annoying, for Dr. Picklesmith was ignoring his duties of sweeping little piles of dung into bigger piles of dung, and that just couldn't do. They urdged him that if he was to use his infernal contraption that sent radio waves, he should do something constructive with it, like read prayers on Sunday, or perhaps read the headlines of newspapers so that people can know what is going on.

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*Radio*

"To-day my cup of tea was quite droll, had hardly the bitter kick of the norm, hardly tip of the hat and certainly not worth it's top of the money. *Rustling of a newspaper* Hmm, seems Sir Doctor Frank P. Yarnspinner, Chair of The Study of Chairs at Oxford, got a bit ruffled up fortnight ago, said that there were creatures are intelligent as us outside the shining isles! Pure poppy$@. Taking the motorcar to Dover to-day, going to have a picnic."

Edited by BaronUberstein
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Due to their large size and now booming population, the Musculators, who call themselves "The Real English", having eaten the small humans inhabiting the island, have started to spread out from London, stopping for picnics, photos, and the occasional 3 hour dramatic pose while looking off into the distance.

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