Archdruid: The spring has sprung.
All: The great Watcher in the Sky has appeared above us.
Moon Gibbon Folk: Errk! The Moon Gibbon! Spare us, O Great Primate, from thy steely fangs! (They rush off into the woods)
Archdruid: No! We were just poetically referring to the International Space Station....
(Moon Gibbon Folk slink back)
Hnaef: And the Dragon ship that is following it....
(Moon Gibbon Folk run back into the woods)
Archdruid: And as the meadows swarm with butterflies, the grass grows long, the birds are mating and the whole of Mother Nature's family exalts in the fruitfulness of the land....
(Beaker Fertility Folk rush off into the woods)
Archdruid: For crying out loud. Is there anybody left?
Socks 'n' Sandals People: We are here.
Archdruid: And who are you?
Socks 'n' Sandals People: We are the Socks 'n' Sandals People. We celebrate the new warmth of Spring, but sensibly. We want to allow the air to our toes. But not too much. Come, for the day is now and our socks are grey! We shall run into the meadow and do the Solemn Spring Dance of the Socks 'n' Sandal People!
Archdruid: Won't there be dew on the grass?
Socks 'n' Sandal People: Good point. We'll go to the car park instead.
Socks 'n' Sandal People depart for the Car Park
Archdruid: So there's just you few left.
Remaining Beaker Folk: But where would we go?
Archdruid: You mean I have the words of eternal life?
Remaining Beaker Folk: No. You confiscated our car keys so we had to work in the Doily Shed.
Archdruid: Oh yeah. Well, blow this for a game of soldiers. Peace be with you, and keep your boots on.
Far away, across the car park, the sounds of the Floral Dance and shuffling of gravel reveal the Socks 'n' Sandal Folk are performing their ancient, solemn dance. Frogs revel in the new sun, and thank their froggy god that she never expected them to wear socks.