The final kilometre of The Greatest Obstacle Race in the World. No more obstacles and the contestants are squabbling and arguing there way steadily through the final stage. Korky is four minutes behind and should have no chance except for the extraordinary behaviour of those in the lead who are doing everything in their power to slow each other up and gain some advantage for themselves in the final furlong. For more details we hand you over to the Sky Sports commentators.
Drydoch: Welcome back to the Sky Sports coverage of this remarkable event. We have seen the dramatic turnaround at the last obstacle and Korky for the Nazis has been relegated to an apparently hopeless position in last place – or has she? The other contestants almost seem to be deliberately trying to allow the Nazis to catch them. They are attempting to block each other at every opportunity with the result that with still over half a kilometre to run, Korky is rapidly making up lost ground.
Connie Lingus: The Catholics may be changing tactics, Rupert. There is something going on with the Popemobile that has been driving along the slip road beside the track and pacing the runners. The Popemobile is extending a long boom out over the track and now a small figure is climbing out along it. This is unbelievable; I have no idea what the Catholics are up to. Any thoughts Rupert?
Drydoch: Not really, Connie. Can we zoom in on the figure climbing along the boom? The figure has reached the end of the boom and ….. IT’S AN ALTER BOY! The figure is an alter boy! AND HE’S REMOVING HIS TROUSERS! Ladies and gentlemen, an alter boy without trousers is suspended over the track and now he is jiggling about in a most fetching manner! THE CATHOLIC UNFROCKED PRIESTS ARE RESPONDING! The Catholic unfrocked priests are suddenly running at full tilt toward the alter boy and the Popemobile is gathering speed. The Catholics have streaked into first place. This is an amazing ploy on the part of the Catholics. Unprecedented in my experience, Connie.
Connie Lingus: I agree Rupert. I have no idea wether this is an illegal move but the Jewish team manager is claiming it is and is objecting. He has put in an official objection with the race authorities claiming the Catholics are making use of illegal stimulants and he is saying – quote ‘If a 14-year-old alter boy’s sphincter isn’t an illegal stimulant then I’m buggered if I know what is.’ unquote.
Drydoch: While the authorities are discussing that little problem it’s worth pointing out that the pace has picked up enormously and no matter what happens, even if the Catholics are disqualified, the race is beyond the reach of Korky the Cat who is 200 metres behind the leaders who have only 200 metres to run.
Connie Lingus: THE NAZI TANKS ARE FIRING! One of the Nazi tanks has just fired and others are following suit. This MUST disqualify them, don’t you think Rupert?
Drydoch: Only if they fire at the other contestants and they aren’t. They’re firing at the Popemobile. THEY’VE HIT IT! THEY’VE HIT THE POPEMOBILE! The Popemobile has disappeared in a massive explosion. The alter boy has been thrown clear and the unfrocked priests are following the alter boy and veering off the track. The unfrocked priests are cutting across all the other contestants and it is pandemonium down there. Bodies are stumbling and tumbling everywhere. Oh my goodness - a frenzied group of unfrocked priests have found a contingent of Muslim eunuchs and they’re all getting their frocks off! This is Bedlam! The Pope is screaming for buckets of water and the Ayatollah is laying about him with his ceremonial cane at any expanse of flesh that looks remotely sweaty! Some are scrambling up and trying to get on with the race! A scrum of unfrocked priests surrounding a veritable Gordian knot of penises is trying to move crabwise down the course. Precious time is being lost but, at last, some of the other teams have managed to sort themselves out and are racing again. BUT KORKY HAS CAUGHT UP AND IS TRYING TO PASS ON THE OUTSIDE! Extraordinary scenes in the last fifty metres of this race. The Baptists are running for the line closely followed by McDuck. The Jews are scrabbling for a place and fighting off the Nazi challenge. The rest are nowhere and still struggling in a reeling bunch fifty metres out.
Connie Lingus: The Baptists cross the line with McDuck close behind. The race for third is too close to call and ….. I THINK THE JEWS HAVE IT! Well they certainly think so but the officials have called for a photo. To recap – Baptists in first place, Andy McDuck second and a photo finish for third. Over to you Rupert.
Drydoch: We’re watching the finish on the big screen and there can be no dispute over first and second but as the recording steps through we see Rabbi Slivovitz’s nose creeping to the line but Korky the Cat is reaching out to point and the tip of her finger reaches the line. Well, I would call that a dead heat between Korky’s finger and the Rabbi’s nose …….. THEY’VE GIVEN IT TO THE NAZIS! Based on a dead heat but the Nazi tank cannon muzzle was a full metre over the line so this is determined to be the tiebreaker and they have given the decision to Korky the Cat and the Nazis.
Connie Lingus: The Jews are furious but the decision stands. The three contestants through to The Final Battle against The Beano this evening are – The Baptists, Andy McDuck and his Coven and, finally, The Nazis led by Korky the Cat.
(And so we reach The Final Battle. The arena has been cleared and no trace remains of the racecourse or the obstacles. Under floodlights the battleground is stark and the huge crowd is silent – even when the armies march onto the field. It is as if the crowd is aware that cheering is not part of this affair any longer. This is death and death.
The Nazi army stands rigidly and square. The Baptist sits upon the lead bull of the herd that mills and bellows behind. McDuck and his Coven stand in a line beside them and practice card tricks and the materialising of doves. At the other end of the arena The Beano stands alone. He is confident, proud and imperious and everything about him exudes the scent of victory. There is nothing here for him to fear – except a little gift left by the disgruntled Jews.
The gift sits between The Beano of Fate and the three small Armies of Chaos that oppose him. The gift is The Ark of the Covenant and in the silence it can be heard to hum. After a moments puzzled hesitation both The Beano and Korky advance and arrive at The Ark together. They look at The Ark and then at each other. They don’t speak but both reach out to raise the lid.)
Korky: Fuck me, it’s a fucking atom bomb …. And the bastards have activated it!
The Beano: Don’t know what you think Korky but that looks remarkably like a digital count down just there. It seems to indicate we have about seven minutes left before this thing goes up.
Korky: We’ll never get clear in time. We’ll have to disarm it somehow.
The Beano: Can you do that?
Korky: No.
The Beano: We need a miracle.
(At the mention of a miracle Korky and The Beano both look around for Bert Watkins who is still the official ‘locum Godus’ until the presentation. Bert is found at the hot dog stand and swiftly apprised of the situation. He joins the others at The Ark.)
Bert Watkins: I suppose you want me to do something about this do you?
Korky: Bert, we’ve got five minutes!
Bert Watkins: Okay, but I want this officially recorded and recorded properly. Too many times I’ve dragged people out of the shit and not got due recognition.
Korky: I’ll make the record and I’ll do it any way you want.
Bert Watkins: Fair enough. Give me a couple of minutes to get meself sorted.
Korky: A couple of minutes are all we’ve got, Bert!
Bert Watkins: You just start writing this down - I’ll take care of my end.
A GOSPEL ACCORDING TO KORKY THE NAZARENE.
Chapter One.
1: And it came to pass in the land of Bogan that the Israelites were sorely cheated by Korky the Nazarene. And the Israelites did become greatly angered and plotteth among themselves to smite the Nazarene and any that consorteth with her.
2: The Israelites devised a trap within The Ark of the Covenant and leaveth The Ark upon the ground to be found by Korky the Nazarene and Beano the Philistine. And when Korky the Nazarene openeth The Ark she crieth out to the multitude saying, ‘Know me, it is a knowing great evil and we must destroy it or we shall be totally knowed.’
3: There was much weeping and gnashing of teeth and the multitude were sore afraid and crieth out to God Watkins asking him to save them from the evil. But Korky the Nazarene knew not what God Watkins could do and was consumed by doubt and God Watkins was much tempted to leave her hanging out to dry.
4: But God Watkins took pity on his flock and worketh a miracle for them. He maketh a kiln to cover The Ark. He taketh one part of shittimwood and two parts of clay and mixeth them with three parts of polypropylene to form the substance of the kiln. He placeth the kiln over The Ark and from this he layeth pipes.
5: And God Watkins layeth pipe after pipe across the breadth of Bogan and when the evil explodeth it harmeth not the kiln and whippeth down the pipe. Where God Watkins had made a dodgy join some of the evil did burst forth but only the inn at Veresdale burneth down and God Watkins crieth out saying, ‘This mattereth not, for verily the beer there is foul and gassy and causeth painful wind.’
6: And thus God Watkins continueth to lay pipes as an Irish navvy doth and he just stayeth ahead of the power of evil as it zoometh down the pipe. But the final blowout must cometh out somewhere and God Watkins hath not worketh that one out yet.
(Now the danger has been averted the crowd settles to witness The Final Battle. There is a sudden blare of trumpets and it begins. To the raucous skirl of bagpipes and the rattle of drums The Dandy, in the form of Andy McDuck, leads his small army towards The Beano. Korky shouts an order and The Nazis swing wide to cover the right flank. The Baptist strikes with a bloodwood staff at the leading Brahma bulls and begins a stampede on the left flank The Baptist wants to hit The Beano first.
The Nazi tanks open fire on The Beano while the way is clear of allied troops. High explosive shells burst around the lone figure but it stands unscathed, almost contemptuous. The bulls are now only 200 metres from The Beano who turns toward them and raises his arms. Bright orange flares of doubt streak from his palms and smash into the leading bulls who falter and collapse. The Beano follows up with dull blue globes of fear and the rest of the bulls begin to turn. Korky orders the Nazi tanks to charge and to keep firing no matter what and for a moment The Beano is distracted and the bulls regroup.
The Dandy comes prancing in and he is wailing incantations that produce sprigs of holly, bouquets of flowers and flocks of cooing doves. The Beano sweeps them aside and strikes The Dandy with a flash of avarice and McDuck scrambles in the dirt sifting for gold and doesn’t see the gloomy cloak of remorse that chokes his life away. The Coven scream as one and fear globes burst inside them. The Beano digs savagely into the minds of The Coven and clearly paints their fate. They scatter, trying desperately to leave the visions of inevitable death behind – but fail. The committee of Kevin Rudds who were with The Coven now stand to one side and take no active part.
Korky sends her infantry around to attack the enemies rear but The Beano has left a sea of despair in their path and they drown in sorrow to the last man. All this has brought Korky to within a few metres of her adversary who lifts his eyes to hers and smiles in triumph. Korky snatches up the bloodwood staff left there by The Baptist. She swings it at The Beano and batters the smile away. The Beano staggers, gasps and scrabbles at his certainty. His anger boils and Sean Bean surfaces once more as a frightened man consumed by doubt and lashing at the world.
But The Beano shakes himself and swells his strength, he seems to grow and grow. He towers over Korky and smashes her with doubt. She whimpers and fights against the thoughts of certain failure but The Beano presses down again, assembling her inevitable fate to use against her. Then The Beano flinches and looks up. He has been distracted by something unexpected.
Out of the swirling dust The Baptist appears and she throws aside her cloak. Joy- The Last Mayor of All stands rigidly before The Beano and for the first time he knows real fear. She raises her arm, snaps her fingers like a pistol shot and the world twists about them. There is a screeching of tormented souls and the air is filled with devils. A thousand lorikeets swirl by. They spin, they swoop, they dive and climb and, all the time, pressing in on The Beano. He tries to target them but they move too fast and claw him as they pass. Cut by cut his blood seeps out and The Beano wavers. Korky climbs to her feet and, swinging the bloodwood staff, she smashes at his head. The lorikeets slash and Korky strikes - again and again and again.)
The Last Mayor of All: I think you can stop now, Korky. There’s not much of ‘im left.
Korky: Is it over?
The Last Mayor of All: It better be, it’s past me bed time.
Bert Watkins: But we can’t have two winners. You buggers will have to fight it out.
Korky: Fuck that for a game of soldiers.
The Last Mayor of All: Yeh, what she said.
Bert Watkins: So what do we do?
Korky: Let the crowd decide. It’s their God after all.
The Last Mayor of All: Sounds fair enough to me.
(And so Bert Watkins puts it to the crowd. He explains what has happened and that it is now their choice. But first a brief word from the candidates.)
Korky: Uh….Hello everyone. I don’t have any real experience of being a God, but then – who does? I would do my best but I can’t give any guarantees. Um … that’s all….thank you.
The Last Mayor of All: Well, I won’t say much. I’m not going to give youse a lot of big words ‘cos I don’t know any. But youse know me and I know youse. And I love youse all. Thank you.
(There is silence for a long, long time. This has not happened before and it seems wrong to have this sort of responsibility thrust upon the average Bogan. Then there are a few mutterings – a rumble of conversation is interspersed with shrieks of laughter or rage. Someone shouts, ‘Give the cat a go!’ and someone else asks, ‘Which one?’ But, gently at first, one word becomes clear in the jumbled sound of 500,000 voices. The word grows.
‘Joy-Joy-Joy-Joy-Joy-Joy-Joy-JOY-JOY-JOY-JOY-JOY-JOY-JOY-JOY-JOY-JOY-JOY-JOY-JOY-JOY-JOY-JOY-JOY-JOY-JOY-JOY-JOY-JOY-JOY-JOY-JOY-JOY-JOY-JOY-JOY-JOY-JOY-JOY-JOY-JOY’.
Korky smiles. It is fitting. There is no better name for a God of Gods and Korky is relieved to be spared the responsibility. Korky embraces The Last Mayor of All and steps down from the podium. She begins the long walk down the stairway leaving God Joy resplendent before the cheering multitude.)
Bert Watkins: Well done, Joy …uh…God, I mean. There’s just a little thing I’d like to ask. Bit of a favour actually.
God Joy: Whatever you want Bert.
Bert Watkins: It’s me boy - young Jesus - this job is all he’s ever known. He’s bloody useless with the pipes so I wondered if you might have a bit of a spot for him, even if it was only temporary till I can get him trained up on something else?
God Joy: Of course, Bert. Send him round in the morning; I’ll fix it up.
Bert Watkins: Bless you! Well, I’ll be off and leave you to it then.
(God Joy breathes deeply and enjoys the moment. The multitude is starting to split up and stream toward the exits. The night is cool and incredibly peaceful. Then God Joy is aware of another presence beside her. It shimmers slightly and exudes a great calm.)
God Joy: I was wondering when the BIG boss would show up to check on the new help. Everything Okay?
Winnie Quark: Yes thank you Joy, everything is fine. We’re right for another thirty years.
God Joy: Korky was a bit of a risk wasn’t she? Could have gone either way.
Winnie Quark: I don’t think so. She never truly wanted to be anything more than she is…although…
God Joy: Although what?
Winnie Quark: I did rather promise her she would be the most powerful person in the world.
God Joy: And you want me to do something about it?
Winnie Quark: I don’t like to ask. You know I don’t want to interfere in the running of the small worlds.
God Joy: Don’t worry about it. I might have to change a couple of things though. Get a few personalities into her life early on. Give her a really secure grounding.
Winnie Quark: Whatever.
(As Korky walks across the vast space of the arena she feels a plucking at her sleeve but there is nothing there. She carries on but her arm is gripped and pulled roughly. Korky turns prepared to be angry at this intrusion but then she is torn from the ground and whirled through space like a leaf in the teeth of a gale. Air about her twists and buffets, claps of thunder explode within her mind and she is drawn screaming into a tube of violent noise. You would think by now that Korky would be used to the passage through time but this is different. This is not time displaced but the withdrawal of time. It is a collapse of history to a new beginning. She sees a room, a bed, a lamp, a window, a favourite book she has never read, she clutches a much loved doll she has never owned and she kneels on a carpet she has never seen.)
Primula Porker: MUMMY!
Voice: What is it now?
Primula Porker: Hajnal won’t give me back my Barbie!
Voice: Hajnal! Give your sister back her doll this minute!
Hajnal Porker: Primula, you’re a dobbing bitch!
Primula Porker: Rotten cow!
Hajnal Porker: Two faced poo!
Primula Porker: Short arse!
******************************
Winnie Quark: Joy!
God Joy: What?
Winnie Quark: I think you’ve fucked this up!
(God Joy sighs. This God lark isn’t as easy as it looks. At least Almighty Winnie doesn’t know about Bert Watkins yet; the sod had got fed up and stopped laying those bloody pipes just outside Bogan Council Offices. Still, according to his calculations and the number of time-steps jumped, God Joy shouldn’t have to worry about it for another 27 years, 16 days, 4 hours, 36 minutes and 12.7 seconds. Perhaps she can arrange for Porky to be rammed in the end of the pipe about then. That should make Porky the most powerful person in the world for a few milliseconds. Ah well, one balls-up at a time. Talking of balls-ups – wonder how the lad Jesus is getting on with creating the new batch of carnivorous lorikeets. The boy is turning out to be a water-walking disaster. Look at that Platypus thing he came up with and he was only asked for a nice little fluffy duck.
You just can’t get the staff anymore.)
THE END.
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