The Little Pebbles (in unison): Are we nearly there yet? Are we nearly there yet? Are we nearly there yet?
Archdruid: Behold! The Solstice is upon us! The sun kisseth the Tropic of Cancer, blessing us with his warmth and light.
All: No sign of warmth or light round here, you sure you got the right Solstice?
Archdruid: Let us do our Solsticial Dance!
The Beaker People hop around in their wellies, trying to feel a bit summery. They fail.
Herne the Hunter: Don't say I'm late again.
Piper at the Gates of Dawn: You always are, Antler-Head.
Herne the Hunter: Who you calling Antler-Head, Antler-Head?
Piper at the Gates of Dawn: Well you have got an Antler-Head.
Herne the Hunter: So have you. Oi! Stop pushing!
Piper at the Gates of Dawn: You started it. Here, take this. (He smacks Herne with his pipes - breaking them on Herne's antlers)
Herne the Hunter - Oh, you're right. I have got antlers.
Archdruid: Strewth, it was never like this in Wind in the Willows. Keith, can you shove these pre-Christian relics in the van and chuck 'em out in Cranfield? They might get a grant or something.