Ritual of Shooting Stars and Hedgehogs

Archdruid: I saw two shooting stars last night.

All: I wished on them. But they were only satellites.

Archdruid: It's wrong to wish on space hardware.

Burton Dasset: I wish, I wish, I wish you'd care.
Archdruid: I'm sorry, Burton. But I don't. You're a soulless get with the interest quotient of a slug.

Burton: One of those nice slugs? Or one of those boring gray ones?

Archdruid: Did we see the wonders of the heavens last night?

All: No, for it was too cloudy.

Archdruid: And shall we wonder at the sight of the heavens tonight?

All: No. We'll all be too tired after last night.

Archdruid: But do you not wonder that a shooting star, born in the furnace of the Big Bang, drawn from the icy womb of its comet by the warmth of the sun, should die screaming in its own heat as it crashes into the atmosphere that blankets our earth?

All: If a meteor burns up above a blanket of cloud, does it really burn up?

Archdruid: This isn't Zen, you post-modern numpties. This is science. Yes. It does. Of course it does. It indubitable does.

All: Did you see it?

Archdruid: OK. I'm off to get the flamethrower. If nobody sees the Beaker Folk burn up, is it really murder at the hands of a heartless religious leader?

All: Ah, yes...

Archdruid: I rest my case. What about the hedgehogs then?

All: No hedgehogs.

Archdruid: All eaten by badgers?

All: We reckon.

Archdruid. OK. Bring me the model badger and giant pins...


All: This is a bit dark for a light-hearted skit on post-modern religion isn't?

Archdruid: You're right. Bring me a very real badger and the flame-thrower.

All: Eileen, you're scaring us.

Archdruid: Then get out there and wonder at the shooting stars.

All: Right you are. It's still light, but we shall wonder at the miracles of the creation in the daylight....


Archdruid: I EXPECT TO SEE PHOTOS

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