When no impact came, Tailspin relaxed his grip on the ejector seat handles and opened his eyes. The sky was clear blue, the sun was shining and from horizon to horizon the ground appeared to be completely covered in snow! Tailspin was confused, he was also a little worried, he didn't appear to be moving. He rocked his hips, feeling and hearing the reassuring 'slosh' of turnip juice, he relaxed. Tailspin eased forward on the stick and began a slow descent, he was looking for some kind of landmark on the featureless terrain. Too late he saw his own shadow below him, and crashed into it..again no impact, he now seemed to be enveloped in fog. Tiny droplets of water streaked along his canopy and back down the F-104's body. The fog lifted, rising higher above him, he made a mental note 'clouds are made of fog', below, the more familiar patchwork of the rolling countryside came into view and Tailspin began to enjoy his new world...he looped and dived, soared and banked, overcome with a rush of emotions, he was ecstatic, elated, over joyed, happy, scared and HUNGRY!! Rocking his hips, there was no reassuring 'slosh'...Tailspin descended further, scanning the horizon for a familiar building or landmark he sighted 'Snotters' church steeple. His current course was littered with hedgerows and ditches and scattered farms...not good. Banking to port he formulated a route in his head. As he'd expected, there on the horizon the outline of Grimyre Woods, if he could cross that and swing around, he'd be on a line with the church and the Inventorium. Now! if he just had enough reserve..... When news of the horrible death of Scrotumuggly and his band reached their home the result was predictable. Scrotumuggly's brother, Twiceasuggly, picked up his sword and swore bloody vengeance! Trolls are very single minded, they don't have the mental capacity for indecision, at least, they don't think they do. Once on his way, he would not deviate, he would not rest, he would not eat, he would travel in a straight line to Snotting on Ye Wold and kill anything that crossed his path. However, he'd heard that the picnic area, where his Brother met so untimely an end, was an area of outstanding natural beauty. Now, standing on the still smoldering scorched earth, surrounded by charred, smoke blackened trees, he had to agree...beautiful!. His attention was drawn to a sound, faint but growing louder, he couldn't describe it, other than an extended fart! This wonderment was quickly replaced when his keen sense of smell detected.......PIG!! and it was getting closer.Next,something in the sky caught his attention, a small dot, it had wings, was it a bird?, it was traveling at phenomenal speed, and closing fast. Twiceasuggly stood, open mouthed, transfixed by the approaching object. In the cockpit, Tailspin was becoming acutely aware of a drop in 'power', and in altitude. Even with the 'magic' paint, the F-104 was too heavy, he had to lighten the load. As the perimeter of Grimyre Woods flashed below him, Tailspin noticed a squad of French soldiers, later identified as the N.W.A.S. Now barely missing the treetops, Tailspin sighted the scorched remains of the picnic ground, perfect !, reaching for the toggle release, he pulled....jettisoning the 'spent fuel'. The f-104 gained some valuable height and as Tailspin passed the outer boundary he banked around, lining up on the church steeple in the distance. The F-104 and its shadow began to approach each other, the ground appeared to flash past faster and faster, it also began to look harder and harder. The flame in the tail, coughed and went out, Tailspin would not reach 'Snotters', however he had a target, if he could just clear this next hedgerow. As the hedgerow scraped the bottom of the F-104 it slowed and dropped, blending with it's shadow with a sickening bump, Tailspin reached for the ejector seat handles as.......