When a man and/or woman stands atop the peak of Greater Frigging Tormounthillbank and looks about in the dawn’s early light, it is possible to see the village of Little Frigging and its environs spread out all around below.
For example, getting abreast of the peak in these early mornings, it is possible to see the University of Little Frigging as the cows are taken from the shed to graze in the fields while the eager students (if that is not an oxymoron) are herded in through the other door as the lab assistants in their white coats and wellies hurriedly mop up the leavings of the cows, which are often more academically credible than the leavings of most of the students, whose essays often have more in common with the leavings of the bulls than the cows.
Further along the village of Little Frigging itself nestles in a gentle curve of the river Teeb, where those with good eyesight can see the scattered bodies of the denizens of Little Frigging who did not entirely make it all the way home from the snug of The Pervert’s Appendage the previous evening, and – no doubt worn out by the rigorous philosophical mass debates that usually end an evening in the pub - sleep where their exhausted bodies fell, often still clutching the remnants of their late-night kebab or takeaway in their insensate hands.
Down at the village cake shop, even this early in the morning the cake shop manageress Fanny Knickerless, and her assistants will be getting their hot baps out for the delectation of their first customers on that fine morning.
Further on up the riverbank, sitting apart from the rest of the village, there lies the cottage of the Teeb Hags. This is where the old crones, known as the Teeb Hags, perform their mystical ancient ceremony which has, over the centuries, become known as Teeb Hagging. This highly mystical Teeb Hagging ritual has been utilised by generations of old hags as a method of restoring the full rigours of passion to those denizens of the village who suffer with flagging relationships.
These are just a few of the delights awaiting the curious hill climber, and as we know many such ramblers are often very curious indeed, when they visit, and – most importantly - spend their money, in the delightful rural paradise that is Little Frigging in the Wold.