On Saturday I was back at Mum and Dad’s place for lunch and Buster and I decided it was perfect weather for playing board games. We dug out our battered edition of Risk and leafed through the rule book only to find it annotated with edits and comments by our father Rumpole.
Fifteen years ago when we first bought the game, Rumpole sat down to read the rule book in an attempt to learn the rules. He became so infuriated by what he perceived to be logical deficiencies in how the rules were phrased that he TELEPHONED PARKER BROTHERS IN LONDON (which back in those days cost a bit) and harangued some poor chap called Robert, who had to do his best to justify their product. It was all *highly* amusing to us kids.
