The 3,000th Post

The dawn breaks, red but cold, over Husborne Crawley. The Beaker People, dressed as Morris Folk, are dancing in a ring, with hankies, bells, pigs' bladders, scrofula, etc.

Archdruid:  3,000 Not out!

All: It's been a good innings!

Archdruid: What can one do properly to celebrate 3,000 blog posts?

Charlii: Retire and let someone younger and more competent do the job!

Thomas Hardy (for it is he):

I LOOK into my glass,   And view my wasting skin, And say, “Would God it came to pass   My heart had shrunk as thin!”

Archdruid: Fie on you for trying to bring me down, Tommy H! (Beats famous British poet with a cricket bat)

Hymn: "I will survive"

Archdruid: Bring on the Walls!

An army of Max Walls march through the frosty meadow and off into the Moot House. Six saintly, shrouded men follow them, carrying cricket bats, hazelnuts and pictures of Mother Julian. Apes, elephants and peacocks proceed in a strict March time. Flags are unfurled, banners waved and voices raised. Fireworks are let off, smashing into the Great House and setting fire to the Doily Shed.

All: Ooh! Classy!

Archdruid: Be not afraid. The Isle is full of Noises! Behold where the light of infinity breaks in upon us!

All: Nah, that's just Burton's torch. He don't like the dark.

Michael Caine: Not a lot of people know that...

Archdruid: OK then, let's face the music and dance!

Clog dancing breaks out. Boomerangs are thrown. Chinese lanterns are banned for Health and Safety reasons, while a quire of children sings "World in Union".  Confetti is chucked around the place. Flowers are worn in the hair (except for Burton Dasset, who may staple them to his scalp).

Drayton Parslow: Stop it now! This is very silly! And a little bit pagan.

The Beaker People throw pebbles at Drayton.

The Lighting of the Tea Lights 

Archdruid: As the light of a thousand setting suns, so is the light of three thousand tea lights. And so we light a tea light for each post.

All: Eileen, you having a laugh? That's gonna take hours.

Archdruid: OK, one each?

All: It's a deal.

Tea lights are lit. The Worship Focus is wrapped in voile.

Young Keith: And now, after weeks of special training - it's the Liturgical Procession of the Penguins!

Enter the "Little Sisters of the Holy Herring", the Community's enclosed order of penguins. At the sight of tap-dancing penguins, the Community is suddenly surrounded by animal rights officers and people hoping to get a video on "You've Been Framed".

Aliens from the planet Golgafrincham race around the Moot House, firing stun-rays at the trapeze artists. The mimes look on, impassively.

Archdruid: As we celebrate our 3,000th post, we welcome our Ecumenical Friends - the Guinea Pig Worshippers of Stewartby!

Great Guinea Pig: Look Eileen, we're here to support you. But we're not bringing the guinea pigs. Not after last time, when you lot ate them. There's limits to tolerance. In fact, I feel pretty nervous just being here. I'm off now. As we say in our liturgical language, "Phweep phweep whe-whe-whoo."

Archdruid: Behold the sinking moon - already just a quarter full!

Moon Gibbon People: Aaaagh!  The Gibbon cometh! The Gibbon cometh!

Hymn: Soho Square

Hnaef:  I'm glad our 3,000th post coincided with the end of I'm a Celebrity. Eating bugs, shocking living conditions, incomprehensible tasks - it reminded me of school.

The Mariachi Band appears, playing "March of the Movies". The President of Ambrosia takes the salute.

Archdruid: Behold! The light of infinity breaks in upon us again!

Daphne Hnaef: Nope, that's the Moot House, Eileen.

The Max Walls have set the Moot House on fire by unwise use of tea lights. Enter Beaker Folk, bearing CO2 cylinders, Beakers, pails and kettles of water.

Hymn: Let the flame burn brighter

Badgers invade the Moot House, chasing stray Beaker Folk and a passing Gelf. 

Sermon

Archdruid: At the end of the day, I'd like to think you're all people I'd rather not meet again. But, since 3,000 posts is just a numerical curiosity rather than really the beginning or end of anything, and I've still got to live with you all, I won't say that. It's been real, and you've all been here. Except when you've not. God bless you all. Burton - take the collection.

Dismissal

Archdruid: Clear off. I can't stand the sight of you all.

All: And also with you.

The Piper at the Gates of Dawn arrives with Herne the Hunter; Pan; the Environment Director of Central Beds Council; and Cerunnos. Realising they're missed the fun, they wander off, fighting over who is the original and who the degenerate folk-memories.