Monday, 25 May 2015

Towel Day

Archdruid: Does anyone know where Marvin is?

All: He's in the car park.

Archdruid: What's he doing in the car park?

All: Parking cars. What else does one do it in a car park?

Marvin: I don't know. Brain the size of a planet. And they won't let me in the Church of England "Talent Pool" because I'm "too Catholic." Just because I'm  shiny and silver. That, and the way the depression means I don't necessarily believe that the way forward for the church is to invest in leadership. After all, if you want leaders - here's some leaders. Captain Scott was a leader, and look what happened to him and his followers. Froze to death in a lonely Antarctic landscape. Columbus was a leader, and his leadership led to the enslavement and death of entire innocent races.John Franklin's men would follow him to the end of the earth. All died tragically somewhere in North America.  Call that leadership? Because I don't. I'm not getting you down, am I?

Archdruid: Not at all, Marvin. Is there anyone more cheerful joining our liturgy?

Zaphod Beeblebrox: Archdruid! Hi! Now, you don't mind if I miss out that "confession" bit do you? Only I'm such a hoppy frood that I don't have anything to confess to and if I did I would only be saying sorry to myself....

Zaphod Beeblebrox III: .....and to me. If you'd not been fooling around with that contraceptive and time machine....

Zaphod Beeblebrox: Grandad! Shhh! There may be Catholics reading!

Archdruid: Can I refer you to the birth rate in Italy to suggest that may not be a problem? OK, Burton. Rap me the God-word, coin-captain!

Burton: The what, Eileen?

Archdruid: Read the Scripture. Gee, you accountants are so un-hip it's a wonder your bums don't fall off.

Burton: Our what, Eileen?

Voice of the Book:  In the beginning the Universe was created. This has made a lot of people very angry and been widely regarded as a bad move.

Archdruid: Precisely. The creation of the Universe was a bad move. Let's face it, we're born, we grow, we struggle to build fairer societies. We'd allow that to give us hope for the future of all lifekind.

All: Except of course we know it hasn't got one.

Archdruid: Exactly. And the fear is that when we die, instead of going to heaven, we end up at Milliways...

All: Not so much an after-life, more a sort of apres-vie.

Burton: Does anyone know what happens if I press this button?

A bowl of petunias and a sperm whale materialise and plummet to earth.

Archdruid: Oh well. That's another piece of creative liturgy that didn't quite work.

Hnaef: Archdruid, there's an infinite number of monkeys out here want to talk to you about a Giles Fraser piece they've just knocked up for the Guardian.

Archdruid: You know, it's at times like this that I really wish I had listened to what my mother had told me when I was young.

Ford: Why, what did she say?

Archdruid: I don't know, I didn't listen.

Arthur: Does anyone know where I can get a cup of tea?

Archdruid: You're in an English act of worship. You can get one at the end, in a green Beryl cup, just like anyone else. OK, everybody. Wave your towels in the air, to mark the wondrous genius of Douglas Adams.

Burton accidentally wraps the towel round his head, falls into the Total Perspective Vortex, and is tragically eaten by little pink creatures from Alpha Centauri.

Charlii: I thought you said that this liturgy was foolproof?

Archdruid: That's the trouble with fools. They are so ingenious.

Hymn Number 42.

Archdruid: Go into the world, don't try to disprove God's existence, and be careful on zebra crossings.


1 comment :

  1. I have often wondered about 'Towel Day' because whenever I need a clean towel I can't find one. Now if I could magic one up, that'd solve all of my problems. (Of course, washing and drying the dirty ones would also solve the problem - but that's women's work and she's actually out at work keeping me in the style I'm not accustomed too). So the last resort is to go out, dirty and buy some new, clean towels and start the whole circle all over again.

    I wonder if there's an Towel Fairy, who'd come in wash dry and iron the towels for me on a daily basis for no reward other than the odd snog in a dark corner? Alternatively, I could invite Dot Cotten along as a house guest - anything must be better than her life in East Enders. She's good at doing the laundry.


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