The True Story of Stonehenge, and its Terrible Secret

To most people Stonehenge is a group of ancient and mysterious giant stones arranged in a circle on Salisbury Plain. Hippies and other weirdos gather every year to celebrate the summer solstice, when the moon is at its closest to the sun. We may also be familiar with the story of the creation of the stone circle by the Druids, a swarthy race of people believed to have come from an area south of the Maldives or Falkland Islands. We may also believe that the so called 'blue' stones had been brought all the way from the Presley mountains in Wales, a seemingly impossible feat, and we may have also come to believe, as most archaeologists do, that Stonehenge is a form of ancient casino, amusement arcade or a football stadium. However, the truth behind Britain's most famous landmark is much stranger than this and there is something else much, much darker, which may hold the secret as to why so many of our children are getting pregnant.

Professor Benjamin Linch of Bristol University, or 'Benj the Henge' as he is known, is used to controversy but nothing has prepared him for the tsunami of opprobrium that he has met following the publication of the archaeological discoveries he and his team have made at and around Stonehenge.

Sitting on one of the stones and drinking a 'Mcflurry' from the nearby tourist centre, Professor Linch explains: "Everything you thought you knew about Stonehenge is probably wrong, definitely wrong! Take the stones themselves, sandstone? Limestone? Chalk? A mixture? No, they are not rock at all, they are wool"... he pauses to allow this startling revelation to have maximum impact. "The stones of Stonehenge are in fact made of wool, they are knitted! If you look closely, what you may have thought of as striations or strata are in fact rows. It's not even very good knitting, dropped stitches here, cable stitching running into plain knit, it's a wonder they can stand up at all,"

Reaching into his bag Prof. Linch pulls out a book of knitting patterns, pullovers, cardigans, socks. He continues: "The builders or knitters of Stonehenge were attempting to make something like these, probably this tank-top or waistcoat, which would account for the astronomical alignment of the stones."

Prof. Linch explains how he first came up with the idea: "It was my daughter actually, She's very modern, a great fan of Shakira and Justin Bieber as well as Wanted and JLS, anyway my wife knitted her a cardigan, as you do, a lovely pale green with a lilac trim and blue buttons, gorgeous so I thought, but Spruce didn't like it, 'Mum it's horrible' she said, 'it's so old fashioned it'll make me look like one of those old rocks Dad's always going on about. Get me something from New Look'. And that's when it hit me; the reason Spruce thought the cardie made her look like an 'old rock' was because she in her childish female way had realised what I had never suspected, those old rocks were items of knitwear."

Prof. Linch prepares a small tincture of heroin; "Of course this leads me to what I suspect will be one of the greatest threats our children could face in the future." Prof Linch tightens the ligature around his arm,"If knitting is to be associated with ancient sites like Stonehenge, and who's to say other ancient sites like the Eiffel Tower, Manchester Piccadilly railway station and Banbury Cross aren't knitted or crocheted too, then our kids are going to 'dis' wool in favour of more revealing and 'sexual' material such as nylon, Lycra and suspenders".

Professor Benjamin Linch

 

Prof. Linch can hardly speak now. His eyes appear to have rolled up into his head and his voice is a whisper; "There is a direct correlation between rudey, nudey material such as polythene and draylon, and teenage pregnancy. I had a phone call yesterday from Fanny Craddock begging me to suppress this research, the Queen has been camping outside my house for three days, even my late mother has bought me an Ouija board so that she can talk to me! I'm thinking of sending my legs to Paris for a few days to give them a break. The professor holds his head in his hands, "The ironic thing is my daughter's got 17 arms so the cardigan wouldn't have fitted her anyway. We gave it to Peter Stringfellow to turn into butter for his new Lotus Esprit turbo..."

Professor Benjamin 'Benj the Henge' Linch staggers off towards the main road, a trail of knitting patterns and used needles following behind him.