Are the Cornish Knockers in anyway related to the Tommyknockers?

Answer 1

Way back in the mists of time, a group of Cornish knockers led by Big Knocker and his wife Huge Knocker set sail from Tolskithy harbour, their treacle mine had run out, and they knew nothing of clotted cream mining or even of oggie making. They set sail to find their fame and fortune, legend has it that they stopped along the way and founded the city of Atlantis, they set sail again and disappeared for ever. Back at the treacle mines Little Knocker had become boss and his brother Small Knocker was running the oggie factory. UD 1 Tommy knocker the first was a Devonian pillager, he set forth to Cornwall one fine day. On arrival at the little Cornish town of Port Wenn he was walking near the oggie factory when fell down a mine shaft. Luckily Doc Martin was at the bottom of the mine at the time The Doc checked him over and gave him the all clear, saying that as Tommy had landed on his head no harm was done. Well Tommy ventured further into the mine, The carrots he had for tea helped him to see into the darkness. He suddenly noticed that his legs were feeling heavy, on closer inspection his feet were covered in a sticky substance. He had found a new seam of treacle. Overjoyed with his new discovery Tommy returned to Devon to get a team of workmen together. Because the Grockle season had just begun no one was interested in helping Tommy, in desperation he called Ken Dodd to ask if some of the Diddy men were available to help. The Diddy men have vast experience of jam buttie mining. Ken said how tickled I am that you asked me to help. I will rent you some of my boys if you don't tell the taxman. A deal was struck, the Diddy men made their way to Port Wenn and the treacle supply was restored. West Country news interviewed Tommy a little later they asked if he was going to try to take over the oggie factory with his new found wealth. he replied no I don't think I will I'm quite happy sticking to treacle. Little Knocker did not take too kindly to this Devonian upstart muscling in on the treacle franchise. So one Saturday Afternoon he got the boys together (There wasn't anything on the telly worth watching , much like nowadays), and after a few pints in the local inn, hopped above a passing Cornish dragon, and made their way to Port Wenn, There they confronted (and conbacked) Tommy Knocker and the Diddy men on a muddy field. During the melee, one of the diddymens head got knocked off, Little Knocker caught it and ran for Tommy's totem pole (shaped like a big H) dropped below the cross bar and claimed 5 points. Thus was born the Cornish game of rugby, still fought on muddy fields in Cornwall during the winter months. How it got the name of Rugby is an another story, we will tell you it when we think of it.

Meanwhile back at the city of Atlantis, things were looking very dodgy. UD3 The Devonions watching the game had noticed the head that was responsible for scoring the five points was in fact wearing a wig, the slang name for a wig is rug. As the wig flew of the diddy mans head A shout was heard from the crowd Did you see that rug go by. well as we all know, when you gotta go, you gotta go. And so, go, went and it just became rugby. After the match, war broke out between Little Knockers workers & the Diddy men Treacle & Oggies were flying everywhere. A bystander caught an oggie in his eye and a dollop of treacle on his chin, Mixing the two together, was the birth of the invention of the sweet oggie. Sweet oggies are now a Cornish treasure, and very expensive to boot. Well those Diddy men don't work for peanuts you know, plus the fact the oggie makers union demanded fair pay for all. The sweet oggie has become the favourite half time snack of rugby fans Cornwall wide. Sweet oggies are only available in the town of Port Wenn, that keeps transportation costs down, and makes the Knocker family one of the richest in Cornwall. Port Wenn is located near to Bodmin, beware The Beast of Bodmin has developed a taste for sweet oggies. You eat these at your own risk, never at night, and never take on to the moors to eat. You have been warned Back in Atlantis, after Big and Huge Knocker and the rest had set sail, Tiny Knocker and his wife Door, found themselves in charge of a rapidly modernising city, with running water in every house. Looking up through the hole in the thatch, Tiny thought to himself, 'either I'm going to have to invent tiles or the machine gun to stop those pesky phoenix nesting on the roofs, but worse was too follow.

The next day, when Door managed to get Tiny out from underneath the pile of furs on their bed.

As Tiny was having his breakfast (Lunch by our timescale) of bread and fruit from the breadfruit tree outside his front door. He could hear a commotion down the street, doing his civic duties ( in other words being plain nosy) he went to investigate.

What a sight met his eyes, wedged between the Oggie shop and the Clotted Cream Emporium, was a large tin box on two wheels, standing in front of the tin box dancing up and down were two people, one dressed in a what looked liked a rubber suit, the other in very little at all, must be a stag do at the Olde Inn again thought Tiny.

As He got closer Tiny could hear what they were shouting 'I no Speakee the Lingo'

the one in the rubber suit was shouting while holding a six foot piece of wood.

Tiny made a mental note to find out when this do at the inn was.

Hang on thought Tiny, if he can't speak de lingo, how come I can understand every word he's saying.

Dragging his eyes away from the under-dressed female, Tiny noticed the traffic imp was trying to tell the strangers that they could not leave their tin box on wheels there.

Quickly introducing himself, Tiny learnt that the strangers were called Mr and Mrs Emmetdude, and that the tin box on wheels was called a caravandude.

What strange names thought Tiny, but the next words from Emmetdudes mouth left him speechless, that there were another 10,000 of these caravandudes on the way.

The Annual invasion had started.

Update 5

Meanwhile back on Bodmin Moor Daff o'Dill the grockle and Denzil Penberthy, an emmet Cornish Pixie or pisky depending on how many pints he had drunk, were preparing a trap for the fabled Beast of Bodmin Moor. Loading the trap with sweet oggys nicked from TommyKnockers store, Denzil and Daff o'Dill made their way back to their hide, removing a pair of courting leperchauns from inside the hide, they prepared for a very long night. Denzil awoke with a start, removing the start from his sleeping fur, Denzil wondered were the bright light was coming from, kicking Daff o'Dill, Denzil checked the sundial strapped to his wrist, it was that heavy he could hardily lift it high enough to check the time. 'Error' flashed the sundial 'This is not sunshine' and promptly switched it's self off. Daff o'Dill yawned and shook himself dislodging some hobgoblins from his beard, which promptly stole the packet of Hob-Nobs Daff had in his croustbag, chasing after the hobgoblins Daff ran out of the hide and tripped over a sleeping unicorn. On hearing the commotion, swearing and then screams from outside, Denzil braced himself for the worse, he knew that brace would come in handy one day. He stepped outside the hide to be confronted by Daff o'Dill sitting on the unicorn floating in the air surrounded by a pulsating beam of light. That's it thought Denzil, not another drop of Old Haymakers Ale (2 pints and you're floored) is passing my lips again, and I'm going to have a word with Ma Kelly, she must of mixed up that last shipment of tobacco again. Denzil rubbed his eyes, pinched himself, banged his head against the nearest tree, but no matter what he did, when he turned around there was Daff still on the unicorn floating in the air in a pulsating beam of light. 'I knew today was going to be a bad day' thought Denzil, 'but this is just getting stupid'. 'RIGHT' shouted Denzil at the top of his voice, 'LETS ALL JUST HANG ON A MOMENT LADS'. Denzil strode up to the glass of the monitor, and rapped on it, 'Oi you', he shouted, 'you at the keyboard, wake your ideas up, or just leave it to the two daft idiots that normally writes this garbage. Denzil strode back, 'ok lads ' he shouted 'smoke time over', now were was we, 'I knew today was going to be a bad day' thought Denzil, 'and where is Mulder and Scully when you need them the most, Off making a bloody film' The beam of light started pulsating faster, and Denzil cocked an ear, 'Is that music I can hear' he said to no one in particular. 'I can't hear anything' said no one in particular to Denzil. It is music said Denzil, and i recognize that tune, it's Scotland the Brave. Just as he said it the beam of light holding Daff and the unicorn winked out, and a loud sort of droning was heard. Blimey thought Denzil, sounds like something is being tortured. Suddenly, about 50 or 60 different coloured beams of light appeared randomly sweeping the ground, Oh this is good, thought Denzil, it's like being at a Pink Floyd concert. Just then the droning turn into the banshee wail of Bagpipes. It is Pink Floyd thought Denzil, stuffing an imp in each ear. Can't remember them doing a version of Scotland the Brave.

Update 6

Back in Atlantis, the city was busting at the seams with Tinboxes on wheels, enterprising Knockers were hiring their front gardens as parking spaces. Dude Knocker was lying in the middle of the road exhausted, after running everywhere trying to answer his name nearly every ten seconds. The Olde Inn had run out of everything, there wasn't any clotted cream or even a mouldy oggie to be had within 20 miles. The Mermaids had gone on strike, the Unicorns were being used as mobile litter pickers.