Journey to the Center of the Earth 2012

The ad on Facebook read:

“Team members needed for a journey to the center of the earth. No past experience necessary. If you look and sing like Pat Boone please refrain from applying.”

The expedition was supposed to be led by Sir Aussie Smith, the famed archaeologist,  adventurer, prize fighter and international spy, and it was he who held the auditions in the auditorium of the British Museum three days before Christmas of 2011. Smith, unfortunately had to be replaced at the last minute, due to an unlucky liaison with an Egyptian rattle snake disguised as the Russian Ambassador to Jamaica. Two days before the expedition was supposed to commence, a short column in The Times revealed that Smith was to be replaced by a librarian named of Henry James. The paper failed to mention the fact that the librarian’s full name was Henrietta Jemms, she had never been south of Middlesex County, she was slightly hard of hearing and was under the impression that she was to appear on television with Dame Edna and not off to an expedition to Mt. Etna.

Be that as it may, the team assembled on a cold winter’s day at the foot of the volcano for their first briefing, which was very brief as it was freezing cold. Henrietta provided each member with a survivor kit that included two packets of Lipton teabags, a copy of the Jules Verne novel, a Swiss pocket knife  and a framed autographed photo of the participants of Survivor South Pacific. It was time!
At the crack of dawn they started the climb down through the lava filled summit crater: one elderly librarian, two blond twins; Sheree and Sheraa (their wayward mother had no imagination)  who had failed to make it to Project Runway, an Elvis look alike named Reese Sender, a standup comic who went by the name of “the Bard”, a obituary journalist from the Times named Ed hoping for a scoop and one Spanish goat who had followed the company up the mountain and who Sheraa Christened as Manuel after one of her exes.
Down they climbed for what  seemed like hours and hours. The  Rick Wakeman soundtrack in the background didn’t make things any better. There were no Crystals of opaque quartz forming magic chandeliers.

For several hours nothing worth mentioning happened, except for Sheree breaking the heel of her left Prada original. Then they heard a shriek.

Was this the cry of some abandoned monstrous creature desperately searching for its lost child? No it came from Sheraa. They had reached a pool of frothy bubbling liquid   and at the side of it she had stumbled over the  dead body of a man. What was really shocking, however,  was what the corpse was clutching in his right hand.

“Isn’t that…?” asked Reese Sender

“Yes I think it is” answered Henrietta, “I’d know that face anywhere it’s …”

“Richard Kimble” butt in Ed, “I wondered where he disappeared to.”
Manuel the goat was busy trying to extract what the dead man held tight in his hand.”

“I think you’ll find that he’s holding the one-armed man’s missing limb.” said Ed, writing down the details in his Pink Panther notebook.

“Hey over here, you have to see this,” shouted the Bard. He had removed a mug from his backpack filled it with the liquid from the pool and put it to his lips.
“Just what I thought, vintage Budweiser. This journey may not be as fruitless as I had first thought. “

Before the rest of the team could join him an immense shadow appeared to their  right.

“it’s a bird”

“It’s a plane

“Oh my,” enlightened their leader”, “It’s T-Rex. So this is where they buried glam rock.”

“By horse by rail, by land by sea our journey starts.”

“Will someone please shut that guy up already!”

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