Picture the scene if you will. You are out for a drive in the countryside; on your way to the beach perhaps. Lunchtime must be near if that grumbling tummy is anything to go by! Of course you don’t want to eat your sandwiches on the beach; no sand in the sandwiches for me thank you very much!
And then you spy a perfectly rounded hill; green with new grass. The ideal spot.
Park the car, lug the picnic hamper to the top. Spread out the tablecloth and unpack the goodies. A roast chicken; chunk of cheese. Lie back with a freshly plucked stalk of grass between your teeth as dad puts the stove on to boil for tea.
Aargh! What was that? The earth is shaking. And now a crack appears. The crack widens as the kettle disappears into the hole. The fingertips of a giant iron hand appear, clutching at the sides of the hole.
Run, run, run! Don’t…..