Full Moon / Death of Keith Waterhouse

The massed armies of Ambrosia march into the clearing.  The president (aka Archdruid) receives their salute.

Archdruid: Did I tell you my uncle is the king of Yorkshire?
All:   Nay, lass, surely not?

Archdruid: And I used to be an astronaut before becoming a newspaper columnist?

All: Ah'll go to 't foot of us stairs.

Archdruid: And do the drunks still run around 't town on a Saturday night?

All: 'appen as they do.  Specially at full moon.

Archdruid: Ah'll be thraiped if they don't.

All:  'appen as you're right, Mr Shadrack.

Archruid: I announce the banns of marriage between Billy Fisher, bachelor of this parish, and Rita, and between Billy Fisher, bachelor of this parish, and Barbara, and between Billy Fisher,  bachelor of this parish, and a fair number of oother lasses who he's a'coortin'.  Anyone know any reason why he shouldn't marry these lasses?

All: Yes.  He's in love with Liz.

 Archdruid: Shall us all run off to London in search of Aberrant Apostrophe's?

All: Let's.

The massed armies of Ambrosia retire, to "The March of the Movies".  They'll be back later, scared by the thought of leaving home.