Hymn: Summer is ycumen in.
Archdruid: What do you call a man with a wicker man on his head?
All: Edward.
Archdruid: What do you call a man with three wicker men on his head?
All: Edward Woodward. Are you here all week?
Archdruid: A nameless fear stalks Husborne it is...
Burton: Drah-culah!
Charlii: The fighting Uruk-Hai of Sah-ru-man!
Hnaef: Lord Summerisle!
Archdruid: Gosh, that's a lot of nameless fear for one bloke. And a lot of long, dramatic vowels. Couldn't he have been in Last of the Summer Wine?
Compo: That Dracula has gone in through Nora Batty's upstairs window!
Foggy: Obviously couldn't resist those wrinkled stockings.
Clegg: Got a rolling pin through the heart though.
Compo: And putting his coffin on that shopping trolley was a big mistake....
Archdruid: And so we say farewell to....
Burton: Drah-culah!
Charlii: Sah-ru-man!
Hnaef: Lord Summerisle!
Archdruid: ... purveyor of fear to the masses and yet, I reckon, a decent bloke.
All: We shall not see his like again.
Archdruid: Unless he's got one more trick up his sleeve, at any rate.
Ominous Exuent Omnes.
I can recommend his splendid autobiography, or rather autobiographies, because he kept updating it. He stands revealed as a man with a great sense of humour and able to laugh most heartily at himself. I trust that he is now enjoying a long-deferred reunion with his old friends Boris Karloff, Peter Cushing and Vincent Price.
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