BEFORE he was sentenced to two years' hard labour for “gross indecency,” Oscar Wilde once said, "In this world there are only two tragedies. One is not getting what one wants, and the other is getting it.”

After preparing to save the world from the hell and horror of an AI clown god called Peter, it's a sentiment that semi-professional paranormal investigator Johnny Turnip can agree with.

"Me and the boys have spent a lot of time stateside and waded waist-high through a lot of paranormal nonsense to get where we are now. (That where' being a small town in Utah called Wales.)

"My ancestor's pot was finally within reach, and all I needed to do was to claim it and heal the world with fairy gold, but the thought of my quest finally coming to an end left me feeling a bit hollow."

Turnip added, "I think it was the moody German philosopher Arthur Schopenhauer who said, 'The more we look forward to something, the less we enjoy it when it comes.' He also said, 'Talent hits a target no one else can hit; Genius hits a target no one else can see.' To be fair, I think both apply to me, but that doesn't make my situation any more bearable.

"Tyke gives it all his Mission Impossible schtick about how we work in the shadows for those we love, and those we've never met, but that's ok for him to say, he gets to play the hero in one Hollywood blockbuster after another. All I get is a weekly mention in a small town newspaper in Wales.

"As James Bond said, 'The world is not enough.' Ironically, I was in the business of saving it, but I just knew it would go unnoticed and unacknowledged yet again. A bit of credit would be nice, but I suppose the opium of applause is for the blow-hards and braggarts; the real players just win the game and walk back into obscurity.

"Anyhow, I'm getting ahead of myself. We still needed to defeat the singularity, and that was far from a done deal."

Turnip told the Chronicle that as the Man with No Game led them to the place where Potato Creek Johnny's pot of fairy gold was buried, they got to talking about the old country.

Trump said, "The guy had lived in Wales, Utah, all his life waiting for the boys to turn up and claim the pot. To be honest, as a purpose in life, it sounded like a curse straight from the pages of the Old Testament, but I suppose everyone's got a job to do, and he was pretty good at his.

"He had this weird interest in the real Wales, though. I suppose if you live in a tiny town named after a country you've never been to, you'd be curious as well.

"Turns out he was a big Manic Street Preachers fan, and he loved Anthony Hopkins, but he said as much as he tried, he couldn't get into rugby.

"At this point, Big Tony, who is massively into rugby but not the most articulate soul, surprised us all by waxing lyrical on why the yanks would never really understand our national game.

"Tony explained in a voice that sounded a lot like a roar that I had heard somewhere before, 'It's not just your silly helmets and shoulder pads that prevent you from really knowing what a real man's game looks like. It's the fact that you've got no real flow to your game. It's all stop, start, yawn, rinse, repeat. There's no poetry in motion, just brute aggression. You're all fish and no chips!' Said the big man as me and Paul looked at each other, wondering what the hell he was going on about.

"Gazing into some distant and unknown place that no one else could see, Tony continued, 'The biggest difference between rugby and your American game is that you hardly ever throw the game backwards, and in rugby, forward passes are illegal. That tells you all you need to know about how our two countries differ in a cultural, aesthetic and philosophical sense.'

"'How so fella?' Said the Man with No Game, who you could tell was feeling mighty insulted.

"Big Tony replied, 'Well, we pass the ball backwards because it's symbolic of looking towards the past as we pave our way to the future. It's all about building on the legacy of those who came before. You lot, on the other hand, have got no real past to speak of, so you just charge head down into what lies ahead without care or caution in an attempt to smash it to pieces all in the name of progress.

"'In other words, you never learn from your mistakes or what came before. If you want more proof, look at baseball. It's a game all about who is the best at running in circles for Christ's sake.'"

Turnip explained, "After Big Tony had finished his bizarre and out-of-character rant, we all looked nervously at the Man with No Game and hoped he wasn't carrying a gun. However, something about his disposition seemed to suggest he carried several and at least one large knife.

"After studying the ground for a good minute, he spat out a big glob of chewing tobacco and said to Big Tony, 'I don't know whether to put a bullet in your skull or slap you on the back for speaking like a man. You got a lot of salt, fella, but I like it.'

"As me, Tyke and Puerto Rico Paul breathed a collective sigh of relief, we all looked at Big Tony, only to find he wasn't looking at anyone anymore. His eyeballs had rolled into the back of his head, and all we could see were the whites as his face took on an expression that was far too ancient and intelligent for our friend by at least a thousand lifetimes, if not more.

"'Enter the dragon!' Said Puerto Rico Paul ruefully as he lit up a fag."

Turnip added, "Paul was referring to the dragon that had once possessed Big Tony to help us in our battle against a terrible foe called the ancient bastard who was haunting a run-down cottage in Powys.

"In our moment of need, it had appeared in physical form, but for some reason, it had used Big Tony as a mouthpiece. I don't know why, maybe because they're good at breathing fire, dragons don't have vocal chords.

"All I knew was, it had returned, and Big Tony was possessed again.

"As we approached Armageddon, things were certainly looking up!"

To be continued......