Archdruid: Friends, Bozos and Beaker Folk. This liturgy will be.... our 4,000th blog post!
Aliens from Toy Story Ooh!
Archdruid: One's 4,000th post is a special number. So many things multiply into it - 4, and 1,000. And 40, and 100. 400, and 10....
All: That Base 10 work's coming along OK, then.
Archdruid: OK, let's face the music and dance....
The Beaker Quire plays "The Anniversary Waltz ." The Beaker Matrons attempt that spirally dance they saw on the Stonehenge programme last night. The Beaker Matrons realise they're not as lithe as they were.
Archdruid: Let loose the lovey doveys!
Crates are opened. A legion of lovey doveys ascend in a glittering, swirling flock.
The doves are consumed by the fabled Eagles of the Pope Emeritus.
Hymn: "Free bird". Somehow nobody has their heart in it now.
Archdruid: It's now time for the offering. So, this being a special occasion, I hope you'all all give special amounts. Young Keith's Tithe Enforcement Team will be passing among you with wireless payment devices and metal detectors.
Hymn: Money for Nothing
Archdruid: Now, a special message from a longtime friend of this blog. Sadly he can't be with us today, but he left us a video message. However, since the 1970s Revival the other week, we no longer have a data projector or PA system. So this is a picture of Richard Dawkins I've drawn onto an acetate. However, since the 1930s Revival last week, we no longer have an overhead projector.
A badly-drawn acetate of an Oxford don is passed around. Some remark on the resemblance to Tony Blair.
Archdruid: OK, bring on the penguins.
The Little Sisters of the Holy Haddock, the order of discalced penguins, process into the Moot House. However, they've not really done much since their triumph at the 3,000th Post Liturgy. They've aged badly and lost their pace. The old "False Verger" tactic no longer fools anyone. They're humiliated by a bunch of younger, hungrier Dutch penguins, and retreat from the stage.
Archdruid: Sorry, Sisters. I think it was a mistake keeping that walrus as manager.
Hymn: What do Pretty Girls Do?
Archdruid: So I'd like to thank you for all attending this 4,000th Blog Post Liturgy. But I have a bit of news. You see you thought I was just little old Archdruid Eileen, with my pebbles and tea lights and pipeweed, living in my bunker at Church End. But in fact......
Lights dim. Lamia writhe, poised between lust and death. Herne the Hunter averts his eyes. The Piper at the Gates of Dawn longs for a quiet life with badgers and rats.
Archdruid: I am.....
Eileen's pointy hat grows longer and her body grows tall and thin, until she towers over the terrified Beaker Folk.
Aliens from Toy Story: Oooh!
Archdruid: .....Sarumana the Taupe!
All: The Taupe?
Archdruid: Yeah. By the time they finally got a two-thirds majority for women wizards, all the decent colours had gone.
All: Nice special effects, Eileen. Can we sing Lord of the Dance now?
Archdruid: No! I have established my Urukh-Hai in the cellars under the Great House, and now..... Urukh-Hai! Take them to the doily mines!
Urukh-Hai Captain: Sure thing, O great Sarumana. Oo - tea lights. We love them. Nice joss sticks. Do you know, I think we're just going to hold these pebbles and contemplate them for a while....
The Urukh-Hai launch into an unaccompanied verse of "Brother Sister let me Serve You."
Archdruid: OK, Hnaef. Turn on the water cannon. Let's go count the offering.