Now this chap, let's call him The King, got into a few heated scuffles, which, because of his maniacal fervour, he won, and earned himself a reputation as a bit of a hard-nut. Going thus unchallenged for years, he managed to delude himself that it was His, All His, and created hundreds of ridiculous laws to ensure that nobody contradicted him, for fear of suddenly finding themselves short one head.

Then he set about having lots of wives, who produced lots of children, to whom he could pass on the land that was His, All His, after his untimely death at the hands of his eldest and most impatient son.

Let this be a warning to all those of you who were ever tempted to shout the phrase, "It's Mine, All Mine."

About anything.

Even pudding.