I apologise for the manner in which you have recieved this note. However, I'm desperate. Please take the time to read it, and then if there is any goodness in your heart, I'm sure you will help me.
I apologise as well for the dreadful handwriting.
The only way for you to understand what's going on is for me to start from the beginning.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
I went for a job interview. It was for the post of Professor of Technology at the Rambling University. To be honest, I'm not really qualified, but I went because I wanted to see what kind of place would have a name like that. Now I know...
It's basically a farm. There was a hand-painted sign for the University, and a piece of paper pinned to it with a big arrow said "Interviews This Way". There were some construction workers, building an extension on the old farmhouse.
I found myself in a waiting room. Actually, it was a makeshift laundrette, with about 10 washing machines and dryers, all going. The only thing that was missing were the weird people you usually find in such places. I'd have to remember to point this out, and suggest that they find some. There were some chickens wandering around, though. "Nobody here but us chickens.", I said. Sometimes I crack myself up.
After what seemed like an eternity, a door opened and a woman's face appeared, saw me and said "Come in, y'all." I looked round, but there was still just me, unless she meant the chickens too. I went in.
She was a young lady, and the name thing on her desk said "T. Rambles, Vice Chancellor". There only other thing on the desk was a glass containing a spare pair of teeth. "I might need them soon.", she explained, adding in a whisper, "Its my thirtieth in a few days."
She took me for a tour of the farm. This mainly consisted of looking at the children's rooms, their play room, and by the time we were finished I had a full run down of all their routines and so on. Then she took me to a large stone "barn", as she called it.
"This is where you'll be staying". I just stared at her open-mouthed. "Once the extension's done, we'll probably be able to find you space in the house", she reassured me.
"But we haven't discussed the job at all." I protested.
"Oh, you've got the job.", she smiled, "Professor". She led me back to the house, where I was given a hearty lunch. I decided I ought to leave, but Mrs Rambles was very persuasive, plying me with coffee, cake and beer.
It seemed only polite to help her with the children that evening, then I was led back to my "room" in the barn. As I lay on my bed, I started to have a very bad feeling about all this. I decided I'd leave, and head for the nearest sign of civilisation.
Before I could get to the farm gate, however, I felt someone poke me in the back. With a gun? I turned round, very slowly. In the dark, it was difficult to make things out, but I couldn't see anyone. Then I looked down. A dwarf was standing there with a very large pitchfork. No wait, it was a gnome. And he looked nasty. He was also made of stone. I made a run for it...
...and was tripped up by another one. They were all around. All alive and trying to stop me leaving. I was marched back to my barn.
So, I'm a prisoner. Kept around so I can look after the Rambles children. Who are very nice. As are Mr and Mrs Rambles. The food is very good. As is the wine. I'm well and comfortable. As long as I don't try and leave, and then I'm offered pitchforks. Sharp ones.
I've tried everything. I've offered to do the school run (all right, I didn't really think they'd fall for that one), I've tried to bribe builders, but they just took my money and laughed at me. I'm at my wit's end. Mrs R is in complete control of the gnomes. Maybe she's a robot. Do robots lose their teeth at thirty? I've no idea - I wish I'd paid more attention in my classes at college.
This is my last, desperate attempt to contact the outside world. If there still is one - I'm beginning to wonder if it was all a dream, and if I've always been on the farm. I'd have put a message in a bottle, but there's no river, or sea here. Then I had an idea. If I put a message in a capsule, and made one of the chickens eat it, it might end up in an egg.
So, again, I apologise for spoiling your breakfast. I hope you managed to read my writing, and PLEASE, PLEASE, HELP ME. This is my only hope...
The above note, believed to date from the early twenty-first century, was discovered in 2208 during recent building work at Rambles University, West Virginia. Chemical deposists around it suggest that it had been covered in a pile of excrement, probably from chickens.