Groida's Loco

Greetings, o public! I trust you had a splendid Xmas and there weren't too many punch-ups. We all certainly had a hoot here in the mine.

Well, Groida got his "train set". That wily old bugger Uncle lucas has constructed an entire, full-scale railway in the shafts on level 3. I jest not. Miles of track. Neon and UV everywhere. It's a cross between a subterranean Las Vegas and a fairground ghost ride. It would seem that the power-out in Cornwall recently was indeed due to him tinkering with the national grid as a dry run and he is now bleeding off power to feed this spectacular if surreal folly.

I cannot do justice to this insane piece of engineering in one post, so expect more on the subject. We each have our own themed railway carriage which I shall describe in detail at a later date. Needless to say, Big G has the engine, the "John Frum Special", named after the cargo cult and in recognition of his inexplicable popularity with the primitive peoples of the Southern Hemisphere.

It is fashioned from translucent fibre glass in the form of a giant, winged rat and illuminated from within by disco lighting and has a working, neon propeller for a nose. Groida is made up. In his engine driver's hat (rescued from the dressing up box) and sucking on a slab of Auntie Pamela's Xmas cake he is as happy as an arthropod in custard.

Round he goes. Round and round, waving and blowing his foghorn every time he passes. Bless! Mind you, if he is still trundling about in the wee small hours I shall pull the plugs. Or tie him to the tracks ...