Thread: The 90 is coming back!

I wasn't trolling, ...

Once upon a time there were three land rovers, who were to go up to the hillside to get dirty, and the name of all three was "Gruff."

On the way up was a bridge over a cascading stream they had to cross; and under the bridge lived a great ugly dobbo, with eyes as big as saucers, and a nose as long as a poker.

So first of all came the shortest land rover to cross the bridge.

"Trip, trap, trip, trap! " went the bridge.

"Who's that tripping over my bridge?" roared the dobbo .

"Oh, it is only I, the tiniest Land Rover Gruff , and I'm going up to the hillside to get dirty," said the land rover , with such a small wheelbase.

"Now, I'm coming to gobble you up," said the dobbo.

"Oh, no! pray don't take me. I'm too little, that I am," said the land rover. "Wait a bit till the second Land Rover Gruff comes. He's much bigger – and has air suspension."

"Well, be off with you," said the dobbo.

A little while after came P38a, the second Land Rover Gruff to cross the bridge.

Trip, trap, trip, trap, trip, trap, went the bridge.

"Who's that tripping over my bridge?" roared the dobbo.

"Oh, it's P38a, the second Land Rover Gruff , and I'm going up to the hillside to make myself dirty," said the land rover, who had such a nice interior.

"Now I'm coming to gobble you up," said the dobbo.

"Oh, no! Don't take me. Wait a little till 130, the big Land Rover Gruff comes. He's much bigger."

"Very well! Be off with you," said the dobbo.

But just then up came 130, the big Land Rover Gruff .

Trip, trap, trip, trap, trip, trap! went the bridge, for the land rover was so heavy that the bridge creaked and groaned under him.

"Who's that tramping over my bridge?" roared the dobbo.

"It's I! The big Land Rover Gruff ," said the land rover, who had an ugly hoarse voice of his own.

"Now I 'm coming to gobble you up," roared the dobbo.
Well, come along! You can call us all queers,
And I'll poke your eyeballs out at your ears;
I've got besides two tonnes of stones,
And I'll crush you to bits, body and bones.


That was what the big land rover said. And then he drove at the dobbo, and poked his eyes out despite his moans, and crushed him to bits, body and bones, and tossed him out into the cascade, and after that he went up to the hillside. There the land rovers got so dirty they were scarcely able to drive home again. And if the fat hasn't fallen off them, why, they're still fat; and so,
Snip, snap, snout.
This tale's told out.

Sleepy that was good, but the ending? What is the fat from? Is it the Dobbo's fat or the fat off the average Land Rover or the owner of the vehicle?

Surely being the most capable vehicle out of a pedigree of offroaders the 90 would have scaled the cavernous ravine and not driven over the Dobbo's bridge or is it a fact that even in fictional tales a standard trim 90 is still less like David and Goliath and more like David Copperfield or Beckham. It may look good to pose in and with all the smoke and mirrors and legend it has associated with it, it may, (not bloody likely but in a universe of endless possibilities) it may even get you a Spice Girl or a supermodel real life girlfriend.Now back to reailty as you "polish your Landrover" (cannot believe I just wrote them three words in the same sentence) for the twentieth time in a week with your special custom grade hand made cut and polish, you'll eventually realize that the 20 inches of wheelbase you have been missing for so long has been replaced by a 5 inch chip on your shoulder, a 5 inch bicep on your right arm and the remaining 10 inches are taken up by the massively inflated ego and the unbelievable bullcrap excreting from the orifice that 110 owners use to kiss their kids good night with. Now if you excuse me, I have to take 8 of my mates to the pub, like to see someone legally do that in a 90.