There are carbon footprints. There are footprints in the sand. There are footprints in history. And there was the footprint that appeared in the middle of Bert's garden. It was a large footprint, about twenty three inches long, and it went into Bert's lawn quite deeply. It was a standard looking human right footprint, just a little larger than usual. At first Bert thought it was a prank, a not very nice one, Bert loved his lawn, but a prank never the less. He complained to anyone who would listen, filled the indentation with top soil, and re-seeded it there and then. Next morning there was another footprint in the lawn, about thirty inches from the first. This time it was a left footprint. Bert was cross. He called the police to report the outrage. A curious policeman, who was in the area anyway, popped in to take a look. A dog handler was called to see if the dog could find a trail to follow. But all the dog did was wander round the lawn, and then start to dig out the top soil from the first footprint.
By the end of the week the line of footprints had left Bert's garden far behind, and having crossed the lawns of Miss Golightly and then Mr Sage, had travelled via the grass verges of Wayward Rise and Aisleby Avenue, to arrive at the grass beside the Town Hall. There was fear amongst the elected councillors, who were concerned that the invisible giant making the footprints might be a annoyed resident.
Several weeks past and nothing more happened. Then one day a young rocket scientist (grandson of a learned proffesor) came to town. He thought he could explain the phenomina. It was he said the urban equivalent of crop circles. After all it wasn't possible to make crop circles where there are no crops.
The following morning the footprints began to appear again, only now they were heading in the other direction. Back along the grass verges of Aisleby Avenue and Wayward Rise, through the gardens of Mr Sage and then Miss Golightly, one per night. It was Tuesday when the next footprint was due to appear, on Bert's lawn. Bert was not standing for it. No, Bert was sitting in a chair beside the fence waiting.
Ten seconds past mid-night a shape appeared out of the sky. It was a foot shaped craft, piloted by a three inch indivdual, who resembled a frog in a traffic warden's outfit. Bert lept up and cried out "Oi, that's my lawn". "Sorry old chap" replied the pilot "only be a jiffy. Just want some soil samples." "What for" Bert demanded. "The jolly old high command want to make sure that this planet could support intelligent life." the pilot informed Bert. "But" Bert asked, bemused "how will taking a lot of samples tell your people if this planet can support intelligent life?" "If you were intelligent,old chap, you would know" replied the pilot, "The answer lies in the soil!"
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Anyone who is not of a certain age will not understand the ending of the above, so if you did..............
