Think the ancient Britons simply changed clothes learned a bit o Saxon and stayed put. Yup some did retreat into the hinter lands but only if they did not want to 'mingle?' Oh those eccentric Britons how could they not be what I wanted them to be?

Well the Romans who had married there and started families did not all leave, why would they? The rain and the Ale and of course Cricket. It was such fun, and besides it they did not have to Bow to the referee.

Angles and Saxons - omg - well King Arthur was eating some honey and drinking his revolutionary Nonneee Nohhhh Whey one day and figured out if he really wanted to take over the world he need some good iron workers so he set a trap in the form of the gorgeous Gwendolynn of Gwennyyyddd. Any way after she went on her rowboat all the way to Norway they thought her crazy and sent her for some serious therapy in far Germany with Herr Frued. There the good Doctor could find nothing wrong and let her go. By this time she had forgotten what she was to do and simply married a local blacksmith called Fred.

Now Fred yearly made a trip into the country to his mother and it was there that Gwyn decided she wanted to live. So Fred and Gwynn moved back to thier home land, Angliasaxland. Soon ther were little Gwynns and Freds all over the place, anyway many years later there was a big fight with King Grotty the Rotten, whereupon the people decided to leave. After consulting the wise ones it was decided they would seek Gwynn home land where there were lots of beautifull babes.

And so on one very wet and rainy morning in the year of the five legged pig there arrived a bedraggled and hungry bunch of sea sore traders to the coast of Broadlands where they were quickly dried out and fed and hugged nearly to death by the locals who after resting their guests and feeding them copious butties and hog burgers commenced a story contest. After many years of butties and stories they all lived happy and the land became Anglia.

Meanwhile King Brick the Happy was pointing his Barn and saw in the distance a fellow riding a broom approach his castle, 'I say' cried the King ' wot you think you are doing riding that thing in to my kingdom without and indicator lights?' To which the traveller replied 'Why good King I am Oggy of Anglia and my broom is malfunctioning I do apologise and offer a reward for your kind hospitality of this fair Damsel' which he quickly produced from his cloak. 'Jolly good' said the King taking the Damsel and setting her to tend his large garden 'Next time do be carefull at borders with your Broom'