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Date: Fri, 6 Jan 2006 11:21:18 +0000 (GMT)
From: "The Spirit of King Ollamh Fodhla, Great Banqueting Hall (Hill of Tara) & Ulster)" <>
Subject: A story of triumph over adversity ...
To: "The Spirit of Vercingetorix (Turoe)" <>
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Brian Hill and his new wife, Betty, decided to honeymoon over the Christmas period on mainland Europe in the quaint countryside of Transylvania.

Late last Monday evening, they went driving in a rented car along a deserted rural road, on what had started out as a typical rainy Transylvanian evening. An hour or so into the drive, it had turned into something much more than just a typical rainy night; it was at this stage raining cats and dogs - a virtual downpour. Lightening flashed, violent claps of thunder shook the car, and the rain was coming down so hard, that Brian could barely see the road in front of him.

Suddenly, and for no apparent reason, the car skidded out of control! Brian attempted to steer out of the skid, but to no avail. The car slid and swerved again and again before smashing solidly into an extremely large oak tree just off the side of the road.

Moments later, Brian was able to shake his head and begin to clear the foggy clouds which were swirling around in his mind. Still a bit dazed, he looked over at the passenger seat and saw his lovely new wife unconscious. Her head was slumped to one side, and a trickle of vivid red blood flowed in front of her pearly white teeth and out the corner of her open mouth.

Despite the thunder and lightening, and the rain and unfamiliar countryside, Brian knew he had to move quickly and carry Betty to the nearest phone. Yes, quickly!

So, Brian carefully picked up his precious cargo, his gorgeous wife of but a few days that he worshiped and adored, and began trudging awkwardly down the road. After a short while, he noticed a light flickering in the distance through the woods. Although he was already exhausted from the shock of the accident and the weight he was carrying, he headed towards the distant light nonetheless, and presently discovered that it was coming from an ancient and very large mansion.

On eventually reaching the main building, he approached the enormous door and rang the bell. A minute passed in silence, and he rang the bell again, then again. Finally, a small, hunched-back man opened the door, and Brian immediately blurted out: "Hello, my name is Brian Hill, and this is my wife, Betty. We've been in a terrible accident, and my wife has been seriously injured. Can I please use your phone??"

"I'm sorry," replied the hunchback, "we don't have a phone, but my master is a doctor. Do please come in and wait here while I look for him."

Brian eagerly carried his wife inside for treatment.

Looking up, Brian saw an immaculately groomed and elegantly dressed man of very impressive appearance descending the huge curved stairway that led into the great hall. He had obviously come down to investigate the insistent doorbell ringing. Then the hunchback reappeared in the hall and positioned himself a little to one side and slightly behind his master.

"I couldn’t help but overhear what my assistant said to you a little earlier, and I regret he may have unintentionally misled you." - the master graciously remarked. "He is new here, and though I am a doctor, I am not a medical doctor. I am a doctor of science. However, it is many miles to the nearest clinic, and I have had basic medical training. I will see what I can do. Igor, please take them to the downstairs laboratory."

With that, Igor picked Betty up and carried her downstairs, with Brian limply following close behind. Igor carefully placed Betty on a table in the lab. At that point Brian suddenly collapsed from exhaustion and his own injuries; so Igor placed him on an adjoining table. After a brief examination, Igor's master was unable to conceal his concern - the worried look on his face said it all.

"Things are very serious, Igor. There is much internal bleeding that I am unable to stop. Please prepare them both for blood transfusions." - the master said.

Igor and his master worked feverishly for a long while over both the Hills, but their efforts seemed to do no good. Brian and Betty Hill steadily grew weaker and paler; and, try as they might, Igor and his master could not prevent the life from leaving both of the Hills’ bodies: which was replaced by the unmistakable chill of death as they lay there motionless on the tables.

The Hills' deaths appeared to trigger some kind of unspeakable sorrow in Igor's master. Wearily, gaze cast downwards as though he was trying to peer into the fathomless depths of his soul, and without uttering a single word, he slowly walked out of the laboratory. Very gently, he closed the door behind him.

Then Igor’s master climbed the steps to his conservatory, which housed a great cathedral pipe organ. It was there that he always found solace in times of trial and sorrow. Mournfully he began to play.

To begin with, the music was slow, and sad, and so quiet that it was almost impossible to hear from anywhere outside of the room. Gradually though it grew more vigorous, and soon a deeply stirring, haunting melody began to swell out around the whole area surrounding the conservatory, so that soon everything in the entire mansion began to resonate with its immensely powerful and diverse range of harmonically related energies.

Meanwhile, Igor was still down in the lab tidying up. As the awesome music filled the halls, weaving its soulful sounds into the laboratory, Igor detected the tiniest of movements out the corner of his eye. Adjusting his head a little, he noticed the fingers on Betty's hand were twitching slightly, in spasms. Stunned -- he continued to watch intensely -- and the next thing one of Brian's arms began to rise! Then he was really taken aback when Betty suddenly sat straight up!!

Almost unable to contain himself with all the excitement which was by now surging up inside him, Igor dashed for the stairs. The metal studs in his boots drew fire from the stone steps as he galloped upwards towards the conservatory as fast as his two legs could carry him.

On reaching the conservatory, he directly applied all of his considerable strength to impatiently push the heavy double-doors forward, bounded into the room, and positioned himself within a few feet of his master.

Then, after a deep inhalation, and at the very top of his voice, Igor roared:

             " Master!  Master!  The Hills Are Alive With The Sound Of Music! "

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There is reason to believe that humour and laughter of the kind associated with the above story can help people to cope with psychological injuries, such as Complex PTSD for example, which are caused by bullies of one kind or another, acting alone or in group formation.  Further information on this subject can be found at the following Yahoo "bullyonline" Group web site:


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