Corrington. Saturday afternoon. Home of Colonel Brickwash. Imagine the following dialogue between him and his wife (inside the house). And, to hear this correctly in your mind, imagine the wife speaking with one of those Monty Python Pepperpot voices: Wife (shouting): What you're doing there in the garden, Archibald? Col. Brickwash: Nothing, my dear. Wife: Don't mess with the clotheline! Col. Brickwash: I won't, my dear. Wife: Are you playing with that telescope thingy again? Col. Brickwash: No, I am conducting scientific experiments. Wife: Like what? Col. Brickwash: Looking at the stars. Wife: At daylight? Don't fool me, you are spying on that young neighbours wife again. Col. Brickwash (blushing): Nothing could be further from the truth, my dear. I am just studying the stars. Wife: Studying the stars? Studying the stars? Our colonel is studying the stars?       Alright then, Mr. Astronomer, tell me, what is my star sign? Col. Brickwash (guessing): Elephant? Wife: Argh! (throwing a bottle at Col. Brickwash) ... We will leave this quiet scene of domestic understanding now and hope, that noone got hurt in the following events. --------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- This is my second entry for the September Faction Callenge - this time for Corrington. (as you might have guessed)