Coven - Part 8

SAINT MARTIN OF THE PLAGUES – LAST NIGHT.

Everyone who mattered would soon be heading to Saint Martin of the Plagues in Gleneagle because the next day would be the time of The Confluence when Gods, Demi-Gods and also-ran deities wage The War of Devotion to decide who rules the Universal roost for the next 30 years. An Andy McDuck and his Coven visited the ruined church earlier to check out the venue for the great event.

(They clattered into the building whooping like schoolkids but were immediately silenced by a dark atmosphere of oppressive misery that hit them like a sudden death. Inside was dark. The air was dark and the walls were dark and streaked by smoke from a long dead fire. Crumbling charcoaled beams held up a roof of scorched wood tiles and the floor was roasted clay. Moonlight through tiny gaps was scattered like litter on the floor and sickly weeds clung desperately to life within the creeping glow. The air smelt of damp and rot and the final breath of those once trapped screaming in the flames that scoured this dismal place.

McDuck shuddered but then set himself against this challenge to his confidence. He began to swagger around the building gesticulating and proclaiming his intention to destroy all opposition to his plan for reforming the purpose of religion in our modern world. He repeated his contention that gods should be strictly ‘hands off’ to give sin a chance to find its own level of accountability and when that happened the degree of faith required to encourage growth in belief related industries would then be defined. It is all about ‘small god’, acquisitive scripture and the prophecy of profit. What would be the point of a god who couldn’t show a tangible return on any faith invested in him? What would be the point of a god who was not Andy McDuck? Very soon McDuck grew tired of playing to the gallery and he decided they must leave. The Coven left the church to its gloom. Except for two people. They waited silently in the shadows.

Winnie Quark and Korky sat together in what remained of a shattered pew and, when the sound of McDuck’s cheer squad faded, they talked quietly.)


Korky: Why did you ask me to stay?

Winnie Quark: To put you in the picture. To explain some things. To make it all make sense.

Korky: Ah yes, the old “explain away confusion with complexity” trick. We’ve reached that stage have we?

Winnie Quark: Oh Korky, Korky, Korky. What the bloody hell do you want from me?

Korky: I’ll tell you what I want! I want simple answers to simple questions! Questions like – Who am I? Who are you? What is The Beano? And what is the bloody point of all this?

Winnie Quark: Very well. I don’t know if I can do this but I’ll try.
First – who are you?
You are Korky the Cat a ridiculous mess of childhood memories developed from the character of Mayor Porker who is in turn a lampooning literary caricature of a lady whose photograph occasionally appears in the Jimboomba Times - which probably means she doesn’t really exist. As Korky you have no restraints. Time, reality, morality can be ignored or manipulated by Korky to suit any circumstance. You were created out of necessity when things got out of hand and now you can range through this blog to correct any error, repair any feeble structure and modify characters at will. You are the perfect get out of jail free card and tomorrow you will fight to become the most powerful force in history.
Next - who am I?
I am Winnie Quark who, apart from a brief show of power when she led the charge on Shizeknicker and the Erks, has been mostly portrayed as a simple little lady of naïve niceness. This ‘niceness’ has been somewhat modified by Winnie becoming possessed by the spirit of Bart Rugarse but it must be remembered that this Bart Rugarse is not the same creature as the one loosely in cahoots with McDuck. That Bart Rugarse is ‘A Bart Rugarse’ peculiar only to the goblin world we find ourselves in now. The problem being, at this stage we have no idea which world is real or even if a real world exists at all. But let’s assume for now that we left the real world in Bogan Council Offices and this goblin world is fantasy – assume it for now. Therefore, the real Winnie Quark (possessed by Rugarse) has pledged to help Mayor Porker to rule the world and has brought her (in the guise of Korky the Cat) to a fantasy world that is now meddling with our sanity.
Next - what is The Beano?
This is a very interesting question, Korky. The readers of this blog now sit back and declare themselves better informed than us. They have already read the bit about The Beano in part 7 and smugly think they know it all. Oh, how little they really know and how wickedly they have been deceived. For sure, The Beano is the Theo Bean of the misplaced ‘o’ on a tombstone fame. It has been explained that he is the great grandfather of Sean Bean and that would be fine except for the fact that no such great grandfather has ever existed. Sean has no ancestor and there is no one to follow him. If you were to dig into the grave beneath that tombstone you would turn earth and rock but never, ever bone. In one form or another The Beano has existed for 4 billion years and at present his name is Sean. Forget McDuck, Korky, Sean is your main adversary in the War of Devotion tomorrow. Sean is The Beano and even he doesn’t realise it yet.
And finally - the point of it all?
The point, Korky, is to oppose. Since the dawn of time there has been a Beano and always someone to oppose that awful force. It might be reluctant or even unknowing but an opposition is always there to protect the rights of the mediocre. The mediocrity might be the simplest loci of a planet’s path or it might be the baseline of an evolutionary trend. Or it might be a consensus of opinion or the right to do nothing in the face of dire need. It might be the right to live and the right to die, the right to kill and the right to spare and the right to not care which. The Beano would like to control these things. He would claim the power to threaten an entire nation rather than let one child starve. He would bend the path of history to prevent some trifling pain and he would enclose the universe within a bubble of Beano induced tranquillity to save us from ourselves.

Korky: And this is a bad thing, is it?

Winnie Quark: Choose your side, Korky. It will soon be getting light and The Beano together with the incumbent God will be here in a few hours. The others will also soon be here and then we are obliged to go to war. So choose your side very, very carefully.


SAINT MARTIN OF THE PLAGUES - THE PRESENT.

(Sean Bean and God arrive at the door of the church. Sean is edgy. He has suddenly become uncertain and is convinced there is something he is missing. Something simple yet profound and it has to do with this building. God pushes the heavy wooden door and they timorously peep inside. It is a blackness but filled with muffled noise. They enter fearfully and the door groans shut behind them. When their eyes adjust to the gloom they can see the church is full. Shapes move back and forth, shapes are sitting and shapes are standing still. Details emerge and Sean sees himself, some other Sean, among a particular group and, instead of puzzlement, Sean knows exactly why he is here.

From deep within him memories begin to seep then rush to the forefront of his mind and his heart begins to beat like pounded timpani. This place is now a home to him. He has been much too long away. He can hear the trumpet blast and clash of steel summoning him to war and he brazenly exults, throws up his arms, breathes deep and calls to the other warriors waiting with him in the church.)

The Beano: Welcome back my friends! It is almost time! Are you ready to dance with me again?

(The church trembles as if an earthquake shakes it. A grinding beneath the ground builds to a tearing roar and finally an explosive crashing blare of sound as a shaft of force tears the church from its footings and hurls it into the sky. On a column of stone and clay and tangled roots the building shudders, racing through the crevices of time. Those inside cling to each other and are helpless before such violence and speed. They cannot see the path they take but they can feel the distance travelled. And they are not the only travellers. On the outside of the church, hidden from their sight and clinging to an ancient vine, a lone figure travels with them. The figure trembles in the howling slipstream that tries to tear its grip away but it gamely clenches fast and prays for journeys end.

It is a million miles in a million years before they hit the ground with a surprising gentleness and half a million ratepayers are there to cheer them as they clamber, dumbstruck, from the church. All around them a city-sized amphitheatre stretches and soars. In the middle of the arena is a giant podium buttressed by marble steps and golden rails. The group from the church walk hesitantly toward the steps. They look about them in amazement and feel tiny in contrast with the space. The only one who smiles is The Beano who gratefully acknowledges the cheers He twirls and waves, bowing and throwing kisses to the massive throng who obviously love him and respond with deafening roars of approval each time he gambols brightly and dances with unbridled glee. They reach the steps and stop. One figure begins to climb.

When the incumbent God reaches the top he turns to view the multitude around him. He is battered by a gale of boos and he looks down in shame. God is not The Beano and the crowd resent this but somehow he must get through the traditional opening speech or the war cannot begin. He sighs and clips the microphone to his dusty shirt.)

GOD’S SPEECH TO THE MULTITUDE.

God: Hello – excuse me – bit of hush now please – thank you. I am the God of Gods but my time is at an end. Tomorrow I will go back to being Bert Watkins from Beaudesert and a new God will stand in my stead ……..

(It is several minutes before God can continue. He could not be heard above the thunderous chant of: “BEA-NO! BEA-NO! BEA-NO!” Eventually the crowd does become silent again but only because they know there are things that must be said.)

God: Like every host before you, ever since these wars began, you clamour for your champion and cheer each move he makes but never in our history has The Beano triumphed in the end. There has always been a stronger God who has crushed this prancing fool. A stronger and a better God must lead the race of men. The Beano would have your lives controlled by fate and preordained justice, but life should never be other than happenstance. One thing must not lead to the next except by way of the random, hurly-burly tumbling of the dice in a crazy fall of chance. How else can this Universe of Bogan and Beaudesert continue to exist? But enough of the boring stuff – on to the wars!
As usual we will have The Grand Parade of all the competitors. The main contenders will each march under their own banner. Like - The Catholics, The Protestants, The Muslims, The Buddhists, Followers of Voodoo and The Jews etcetera. Then we will have combined teams for the smaller factions. For instance, under the banner of Crackpot Churches we will have The Cargo Cult, The Mormons, Scientologists and The Church of England. Boutique Churches will also have a combined team of Stalinists, Nazis, Otto Premingers and Kevin Rudds. You may notice a few extra ones but they’re not worth talking about really.
As far as the events are concerned we will follow tradition there. Track and Field will take up the morning followed in the afternoon by The Elimination Bouts. In the evening, under floodlights, we will have The Final Battle followed by The Presentation and, lastly, The Parade of Survivors. So, everyone settle down for a great day of sport and entertainment starting at 6-30 with The Grand Parade followed by the opening event - The Egg and Spoon Race. And don’t forget from tomorrow you can still contact me. My business card will be available at all the exits so if you have any problems please give me a call. That’s Bert Watkins, licensed Drainer and Plumber of Beaudesert, obligation free quotes, miracles worked on pipes, available 24/6 – used to be 24/7 but I’ve got used to me day off. Thanks to you all and farewell Bogan and Beaudesert.

(The amphitheatre seems to erupt with sound. A mighty bellow rolls around the horizon and then thunders down into the arena shaking the ground and every structure with the din. Korky crams her hands against her sensitive ears and whimpers with pain. Winnie Quark pushes through the crowd and grips Korky’s arm.)

Winnie Quark: Korky, when the parade begins, get to The Boutique Church banner. I’ve arranged for you to march with the Nazi group.

Korky: You’ve arranged for me to do what? The Nazi group? Jesus, Winnie what the – bollocks to Doris – fucking hell are you talking about?

TO BE CONTINUED.