> Ladies, ya gotta help me!
>
> ...
> ...
> Cassie?
> ...
> ...
> CASSIE!
>
> Oi! You don' 'afta shout. Wot you want?
>
> There's a *customer*!
>
> Oh. Yessir. You would like some answers, yeah?
>
> Too roit Oi bluddy would.
>
> Well, sir. What seems to be the problem?
>
> Well, it's these bluddy Digests.
>
> Eew. Pythia, 'e's started talking about 'is guts. I
> fink 'e's one of yours.
>
> <imagine Bob 'Oskins> No, no, no. Not my "digestion", you silly tart, the
> DIGESTS!
>
> {sniff Oh. Them. Pyth! 'E's still one of yours.
>
> Yes mate. What's up wiv-**cough** I mean "with" the Digests?
>
> They're GORN! The bluddy lot 'ave scarpered! There ain't been a Digest
for
> nearly four weeks! The supplicants are gettin' restless and the Priests
are
> pullin' aht what little 'air they 'ad left.
>
> Sooooo. You want *us* to....
>
> ...to, to, to help me aht, that's the ticket.
>
> It'll cost ya.
>
> S'orright. I'll cover it.
>
> Sibyl? Ohhhhh Si-byl! This 'ere's a doozey! Care
> to lend a hand?
>
>

Pythia (P): We're never ones to turn down a fee, but I'm not sure what the query here is, and DON'T call Cassie a tart again or I'll ram that stupid rucksack that you're holding down your throat !!! Got me.

Customer (C): Right, sorry, but I'ms all bollocksed up 'ere and . . .

P: and you can drop that STUPID accent since we all know that you went to Oxford after Eaton you ponce.

C: Quite right, so sorry. It seems that the digests which we have all come to expect from the internet Oracle are no longer available, and I was wondering if you could do something to bring them back?

P: The Oracle IS a tart! If there isn't something in it for him then you will get no service at all. It is theoretically possible to request the
priesthood to expedite the digests, but it is doubtful that they will listen without a somewhat more forceful request than is usually made.

Sybil (S): Pythia! I hear you back here. We can not afford all out war with the Oracle. I suggest that you use more covert means such as one of our insiders.

P: You mean Zadoc?

S: No, I was thinking of our other source.

Og (Og): Oomp! Me no sure right do. Me thinks priesties do work own pace; slower than Thag. Me thinks priesties no care about suppie - cants. Me thinks priesties only care 'bout greeny paper and exams.

P: (confers quietly with Og. Og nods, smiles and moves off in the direction of the Oracular Palace.)

Og: Me needs Orrie! Me needs in!! (Zadoc slips Og into the back of the Oracular hall. There is noone there. Og quickly moves to the Oracles throne set in front of the dimly lit CRT that is always present, and Og deftly takes and replaces a small staff found in the right arm rest of the throne. Og slips out and around to the front for an audience with the Oracle.)

Internet Oracle (IO): Og! It is always good to see you my friend what can I do for you?

Og: Priesties, no do work good. No do digests for lunar cycle and more. Hit priesties big stick.

IO: I'm not sure why you care, but Ok, I'll talk to them. (calling the priests, they line up in an arc in front of the Oracle.) So, it comes to my attention that the digests have not been completed!! Someone is going to pay. (and the Oracle quickly zots Zadoc, but due to a stone plugging up the business end of the staff, it explodes throwing all of the priests into a wall. The Oracle looks like Wile E. Coyote.) OK. Someone is really pretty annoyed. I want you guys to get those digests out while Ifind out who did this. (The Oracle, smoking and still holding the staff upwards, removes himself into an ante-chamber, whimpering.)

S: How did you know that he would zot Zadoc?

P: He always zots Zadoc at every meeting which is why it intimidates noone. (to customer) Now there is the fee. Cassie, the bill.

It is extremely large since Cassie does not like being called a tart. You Owe Delphic Research One year of Internet hook-up, 40 pounds of military grade C-4 explosive, and a Lingen Berry tart, because you made Cassie hungry.