It was holiday time for the famous five by Enig Blyter; Tom, Stan, Dave, Nigel, Berniss, Arthur, Harry, Wee Jockey, Matoombo, and Craig? For the past 17 years the fabled fibe had been forming into adventures on varicose islands and secrete vallets with their famous ill bred dog, Cragesmure. Their popular Uncle Philpole with his popular curly white hair and his rugged red weather battered face and his popular fisherman's boots and his big junky sweater and his little cottage.
'Gruddly Pod, Gruddly Pod,' the train seemed to say, 'Gruddly Pod, we're on our hollidays,' and they were. Pon arrival they noticed a mysterious stranger who bode no ill?
'Oi what's this 'ere,' he said from behind.
'We're the famous fire by Greenod Bladder,' replied Tom, Stan, Dave, Nigel, Berniss, Arthur, Harry, Wee Jocky, Matoombo, and Craig?, and they were.
'Don't you dare go on the mysterious Woenow Abbey Hill.'
That night by the light of their faithful dog Cragesmure, they talked Craig and Mtoombo into foing the dirty worj. Soon they were at Woenow Attlee grazine upone an olde crypped who turned round to be the furtive stranger.
'Keep off the grass,' he asked frae a great hat.
Matoombo sprange and soon overpowdered the old crypt with a halfhelsie. Craig? quickly fried the old crypt together.
'Wart is the secrete of Woebeat Dobby?' Craig? asked.
'Yer can beat me but ne'er ye'll learn the secrete,' he answered from a green hut.
'Anything you say may be used in Everton against you,' said Harry. And it was.