THE LAND OF WAZ

Wherever you go, from uptown Perth to the back streets of Hull, you will see the shell-like husks of the downtrodden - society's dregs - all of them looking for enlightenment. But if you look beyond this desperation with both eyes, and walk with both feet, you can escape the monotony of this ceaseless reality. As you step through the door at the end of the universe, you will find yourself falling, falling through the darkness, down and down, until there, on the horizon, you see the deep green glow of day-break and finally get a glimpse of the land beneath you. As you fall you will fly, over the Misty Mountains, through the Image Dunes of the Whispering Desert and over the tops of the mighty trees that make up the Forest Of Thighs, before alighting on a plush pile of velveteen cushions in the centre of the land. If you were then to follow the Mellow Brick Road to the mighty domed city where, in the presence of his Funky Minstrels, the Funk King rules, you would be welcomed with open arms and invited to stay forever. You too would become a Whizzer, in the Land Of Waz.