Future Shock
Old Granny Marlowe had a flair for disguises. One afternoon before tea, she assembled her team of truanting grandchildren and commanded them to make her a gypsy costume. They were rewarded with one of her famous drop scones.
As a mysterious gypsy offering competitive rates, she quickly became Switchback Fair's pre-eminent fortune teller. Customer satisfaction was apparently high. Visitors would leave the tent in a stupor bordering on delirium. It was only natural to assume that her fortune telling was so precise that it left her clients with a diminished hold on the laws of cause and effect. Either that, or she had shared with them her famous fermented celery drink.
Things went awry when an enterprising policemen took a peek inside with a view to getting a temporal advantage over the fair's hoodlums. Granny Marlowe gave him the standard routine, something about strangers, blah blah blah, and then, as usual, she turned to invite in her grandsons, Ricky and Shane Marlowe.
'Ah yes, I have one last fortune to tell ye,' she muttered ominously. 'I hear that a generous donation to an old lady will bring infinite happiness upon your soul. But the crystal ball is unclear ... perhaps it is saying that no donation was given, and a great pain was visited upon you. I think the murk will clear shortly...'
The policeman called for back-up and a troupe of dubious bearded ladies had the situation under control within minutes. Old Granny Marlowe never told fortunes at Switchback Fair again.