Long ago, back in the dawn of time, whilst woolly mammoths frolicked in the snow covered mountains of England, and far below in the glacial meltwaters primitive lifeforms began to contemplate evolving into something slightly less primitive, in a stunning anachronism I ordered something from Ebay.
Years passed. To quote Monty Python; Winter changed into Spring. Spring changed into Summer. Summer changed back into Winter. And Winter gave Spring and Summer a miss and went straight on into Autumn. Not having received anything I dispatched an urgent message by Pterodactyl to the sender of my package.
A short while later a message was returned, by a runner from Olympia who managed to gasp his reply before he sadly expired on the floor. The delivery man was unable to find my address. His gnat-nav must have failed him. The runner however, was duly honoured for his fine work. They named a famous sporting event after him. The Rutland County Biannual Trout Tickling Championships will now and forevermore be known as 'Dave'.
As the final throes of the Ice-Age began to subside I contacted the courier service, and asked that they deliver the package to my work address. They responded heroically and flung the full weight of their Tortoise Department behind the task of delivering my parcel. A particularly slow Tortoise was selected for the job, and began his laborious journey.
Several years later I phoned the courier service. Unfortunately the Tortoise had neglected to yet make it out of the depot, probably having been distracted by a small piece of lettuce. The managerial staff duly issued him with a kick up the arse, and as the 21st century dawned my package finally arrived.
Imagine my excitement when I discovered on opening that they had included a special free 'Missing Part' with my order. At first I was thankful, then on later reflection I came to the conclusion I would actually like the aforementioned component - it being necessary for the correct functioning of the product. And so, a flea-mail was sent asking if the Special Missing Part could actually be included after all.
After a while I received a reply. Their flea mail took slightly longer than mine - the carrier dog being distracted en-route and having to spend a few minutes sniffing other dogs' bottoms before resuming his journey. Many apologies were offered and the component would duly be dispatched.
Another bold Tortoise commenced his journey. For years he trekked through snowy topped mountains and windswept plains. And finally, in my absence, delivered his burden to a neighbour of mine. Or possibly someone in the same road, or maybe the one next to it. Come to think of it, it could have been anywhere. Having completed his task, he fell exhausted into a ditch, where he was picked up by MI5 and taken off to have his memory erased.
Further contact with the courier service confirmed that the delivery Tortoise had completely forgotten where he had left my parcel. He also forgot to put one of those little cards through the door at the time of delivery telling me where he'd left it. Bastard Tortoise.
And so, time slips on. In a few years, after the end of World War Three, and when global warming has destroyed all the crops and flooded most low lying countries, just before we slip into the next Ice Age a package will turn up in a sorting depot somewhere near Wyre on Piddle. A look of astonishment will come over the old Tortoise's face as he remembers that day years ago when he stopped for a nibble at a brussel sprout and mistakenly left this package here.
With a sudden burst of enthusiasm surging through his old rheumatic tortoise limbs, he decides then and there to complete his long lost mission and deliver the parcel safely to me. Just at this moment however, as Historians tell us has happened several times in the history of the world, the Earth's magnetic polarity suddenly switches.
Guided by his faithful internal compass, the old tortoise lumbars off into the sunset, my package on his back, bound for Tahiti.
