Chapter 7 – Foolish Things Come To Those Who Wait

Chapter 7 – Foolish Things Come To Those Who Wait.

Two figures appeared out of a strange, purpley-red smoke cloud. The first looked fairly normal, but there was something about the second one that didn’t look quite right. This was the one that spoke.

"Are you sure this is the right place, boss? It’s awfully dark."

"Sure is, old chum. Blacker than the inside of you-know-who’s hat. Look! What’s that unhealthy green glow over there?"

They came closer. It was now obvious that the first was wearing outlandish clothes – worse than Tom Bombadil’s – and that the second was some sort of human-cow hybrid.

"Err, excuse me - " said the human figure, "but did you, errm that is - were you the err one who umm, called for help?"

"Yes! Oh yes – Could you save me from this evil ghost?"

The two new arrivals looked at each other.

"Ah. Evil ghost, is it?" said the cow "Well, fighting evil’s what we do best."

Time passed.

"Well?" said Ambrose.

"Sorry?"

"Aren’t you going to fight this ghost?"

"Oh I see. What, now you mean?"

"If you’re not too busy." Ambrose’s heavy sarcasm plummeted towards the centre of the earth, like a very heavy thing.

"Perhaps we should talk about this. There’s no point in rushing into things. My name’s Tom. Tom Foolery."

"And I am Eric. I’m a cow."

Ambrose stared at the strange cow-like being. He wondered if he should mention that cows usually have udders, but thought better of it.

"Actually," said Tom "We’re only here because of you."

"Me?"

"Well, all of you really. You see the writers are supposed to be working on a second play with me and Eric in it – and I’m afraid you’re distracting them – you and your damn vibraphone. So we’re here to put an end to it – once and for all."

Emilia Hangnail floated disgustingly forwards.

"Oh no you don’t! I’ve waited since chapter one for my revenge – you’re not going to deprive me of it now." She floated closer to Tom, causing him to recoil from her foul stench. Slowly, she raised the vibraphone above her head.

"Now, I will show you the true meaning of evil!"

"I know that," said Eric, scratching the bit where his udders should have been.

"What?" said Emilia, the Vibraphone wobbling with anger.

"I looked it up in the dictionary, amongst its many descriptions it says ‘Morally wrong or bad, causing harm or injury’ and there’s also a reference to scrofula."

The other three winced, no one likes references to scrofula, not even Mistresses of evil.

"Steady on chum, there’s no need for that."

"Sorry mate, but it says it in the dictionary."

By this time Ambrose had suddenly found the use of his limbs and was slowly getting up.

"No, I’m going to show you my evil powers!" said Emilia , who, if she wasn’t already, would have died with sheer frustration.

"Been there, done that." said Tom.

"Evil powers are a walk in the park for me and Tom here."

"Feel My Wrath!" screamed Emilia.

"No thanks" said Eric, screwing up his face, "I should imagine it would be all wrinkly."

Green sparks were shooting off Emilia, her green aura was flaring up little streaks of lightning and her eyes were bursting with glee.

"How dare you mock me?" she yelled, wobbling about like a good ‘un.

"We dare" said Tom, casually placing a hand in a pocket, "Because we are your basic heroes."

Ambrose had now found a new lease of life and was…running like buggery towards a handy clump of rocks.

"So," said the cow, "Bring it on. I have a black belt in Kung Moo". He then made a stance that Jackie Chan would have been able to criticise heavily.

Emilia exploded. Literally blew apart, rivers of Glee ™ squirted about all over the shop, lumps of flesh and bone erupted and what can only be internal organs bounced about amongst the rocks.

Tom wiped some of the goo from his face.

"That was interesting" he said.

Then, from above them there was a strange wobbling noise. Tom and Eric looked up.

"Oh bloody hell" said Ambrose.

The Vibraphone spun about in the air - it almost seemed to float.

"Catch it!" shouted Ambrose, who had broken cover and was running at breakneck speed towards them.

The vibraphone began to fall.

Tom and Eric dived.

Tom’s hands grabbed hold of the instrument.

Which slipped out his grasp.

Eric raised his hand to catch.

Ambrose watched in horror as the vibraphone bounced of the cow’s head and hit the floor. The incredibly rocky floor.

"Noooooooooooo!" he screamed.

The vibraphone shattered.

*******

In another part of the space-time continuum, something went "Swish". Not terribly important, you might think – but you’d be wrong. The maker of the "Swish" had been expecting more of a "Boingggggg", and as he was Lickedy Split, the drummer/percussionist from "Run Like Buggery", and as he was in the middle of the first ever live performance of "Teabag in my shoe" in front of forty thousand people, it mattered to him. As for the forty thousand people, they had never heard it before so they didn’t really notice. They couldn’t help but notice when the drummer stopped playing completely, though – as did the rest of the band. As Big Horny, the lead singer tried to calm the audience down and explain a situation he didn’t understand himself, Lickedy Split stared into the vacant space where his Vibraphone had been a few seconds before.

*******

"Perhaps we could put it back together again?" said Tom, looking nervously as the shattered remains of Ambrose’s vibraphone.

"Or we could buy you a new one?" added Eric helpfully.

"YOU HAVE NO IDEA WHAT YOU’VE DONE, HAVE YOU!" screamed Ambrose, unhelpfully.

Scooping up a tonsil that had popped out inadvertently during this outburst, he continued in a more restrained manner.

"The entire Universe is doomed. The whole of creation – everything is going to be destroyed."

"Cheer up chum! There’s always a bright side." beamed Tom, attempting to put a brave face on things.

"Bright side? BRIGHT SIDE! The entire universe – all of it – not even one tiny microscopic bit overlooked – is going to be destroyed. THERE IS NO BRIGHT SIDE!" The tonsil had rolled away under a rock this time, and Ambrose began crawling around on the floor, looking for it.

"He seems quite upset." Remarked Eric.

"Yes old chum, he seems to lack our cast iron faith that, with Aristotle’s help, everything will turn out all right in the end."

For a while, all was quiet in the cave, apart from the sound of Ambrose sobbing and the sound of Gnomes frantically digging.

*******

Back in a certain stuffy club, a man with an unfeasibly large handlebar moustache was monitoring the situation through a viewing apparatus that appeared to have come straight out of a sixties sci-fi B movie.

"Oof! That was a big one."

"What’s that?"

"Vibraphones R Us – entire stock completely disappeared. It’s spreading faster than we thought."

The man in the Pillbox hat put down his paper.

"Still just Vibraphones?"

"So far – but you can bet the drum kits won’t be far behind, dontcha know".

"I say old man, how long do you estimate we’ve got?" piped up another voice from behind a newspaper in yet another red leather bound armchair.

"Hard to say really – somewhere between twelve and twenty four hours, for the whole universe. Of course this close to the epicentre – about ten minutes."

"Ahh. Still time for tea, then." A hand picked up a small bell and rang it. A few seconds later, the bell disappeared.

*******

Davina Venticle allowed herself a small chuckle. It was a green and yellow one, whose name (unbeknown to Davina) was Malcolm. He died peacefully, in the knowledge of a job well done. Lucretia stepped closer to the bright shiny vibraphone.

"I can’t believe it. We’ve really done it. We’ve got here before you stole it, and now we can steal it again! Think of the power – the unimaginable power, the urghh"

Now it was going alright, up until the "urghh", wasn’t it? When you know the reason for the strange sound however, all will become clear. As clear as the view through the hole in Lucretia (formerly Miss Moneypfennig)’s head. Perhaps if I put in a "BANG!" that would help?

Davina blew the smoke from the gun and holstered it.

"Oh I am thinking of it my dear. You really didn’t think I would share did you?"

Quite why she wasted this time talking to a lifeless body is anyone’s guess. It’s just one of those things that villains do. And what always happens when they do it? You’ve got it. Things go horribly wrong.

"Oh dear" thought Davina, as she looked at the empty space where the Vibraphone had stood seconds before, "something has gone horribly wrong."

*******

The pathways of the mind are an incredibly complex thing, lots of bubbling thoughts, sneaking suspicions, scheming plans and other metaphors that make quite good visuals.

Kevin and Bethany May sat on the little white cloud and floated through the mess. Suprisingly Kevin was feeling more cheerful then he had felt for a long while, he was even singing. It was song about a meadow and a young horse, a fol-de-rol.

"What was that line" asked Bethany, ducking a flash of inspiration.

"It was ‘He frolicked and a-gamboled,a hey down derry down derry down doe" said Kevin, snapping his fingers.

"What does that mean?"

Kevin scratched his head.

"Not sure, who cares? It’s just a song." Said Kevin, swerving the cloud to avoid a spark of originality.

"Have you any idea where were going, or even who’s mind were in?"

"Been thinking about that," the cloud deftly traversed a stream of conscience, "I think we are in the collected minds of every thing every where that’s ever been, ever."

The cloud was suddenly struck by a pang of guilt, which sent it spinning towards a valley of despair. Kevin mentally pulled back on the cloud, breaking it out of its descent and shooting it towards a surreal concept. The cloud stopped buffeting about and settled back on its course.

"We’re getting close." said Kevin, an air of calm floating over him, which he wafted away with his hand.

"To what?"

Kevin pointed.

"To that."

A long way ahead, behind the crackling ideas and jolts of conscience was a small, perfectly round speck of blue.

"What is it?" asked Bethany

"Its what we’ve been looking for, it’s the calm in the storm, it’s the peace of mind, its where all the karma and cosmic enlightenment is stored. It’s Nirvana."

"How come you suddenly know all this?"

Kevin paused. The truth was, he wasn’t sure. There was just something in the back of his head telling him all this stuff. It was like it had been there all the time and he was now starting to hear its voice for the first time. Of course he still had his doubts but he didn’t want to keep them because he had nearly flown into a herd of them earlier on and they weren’t pleasant things.

Instead he grinned.

"I’m the new Messiah aren’t I? Credit me with some intelligence."

This made Bethany laugh, which started Kevin off. Together, giggling like school children they made their way towards enlightenment.

*******

Ambrose was jumping up and down in anger, crying and screaming and generally behaving like a big girly. That might be sexist but you all know what I mean. Tom and Eric had made their excuses to leave earlier, just after Ambrose had, in no uncertain terms and using specific words and phrases far too unpleasant to be used now, told them to sling their hook. They didn’t mind really, they had a work in progress to go back to.

"Seen any Gnomes?" said a voice.

Ambrose stopped jumping and turned around.

"Oh, it’s you. Come to tell me that everything’s going to be okay?"

The pineapple shrugged.

"No, just looking for Gnomes. They’ve been at the wiring again."

"Wiring?" said Ambrose, trying to regain some dignity. If the world was coming to an end then he didn’t want to go out covered in snot and tears.

"Yes, wiring." The pineapple kicked a lump of Emilia "Aristotle uses cameras to keep an eye on everything."

"So why hasn’t he seen what’s been going on here then?"

"Well, he would have done if those Gnomes hadn’t chewed up the wires. Just because he’s omnipotent and all-seeing, doesn’t mean he can see everything."

There was a brief scratching of heads.

"So what has been going on here?" asked the pineapple.

Ambrose told him.

"Oh dear" said the pineapple and tutted, "If only the Gnomes hadn’t chewed the wires…"

"Right. Bloody right." Said Ambrose. He bent down and selected a particularly nasty looking piece of broken Vibraphone - it had sharp pointy bits on it. He brandished it ‘till it was nice and slippy and stalked into the cave.

There now followed horrible and murderous noises. High-pitched screams of mercy echoed out the cave along with all those other noises that are associated with fights. To make the whole thing complete, the pineapple pulled a different expression of pain with every bump and crash he heard. Also to configure to form, every now and then things shot out of the cave - gnomes, rocks, bones and at one point a burning tyre and three chickens.

At long last, Ambrose came staggering out, covered in cuts and bruises. He also had a nasty bump on the head where a gnome had hit him with Celine Dion.

"Well?" said the pineapple, "Did violence help?"

"Ooh yes," said Ambrose, grinning. "Now, lets see about getting this wiring repaired so we can let Aristotle know. What, with him being God and all, we might be able to avert the end of the world."

The pineapple made that noise that mechanics make when they’re about to tell you that the car you took in to have the brakes checked is going to need entirely rebuilding. At cost.

"We can’t do that. That cable is beyond repair."

"What, completely?"

"Weeell, I could fix it. If you had some high tech fibre optics and about a ton of technology that’s not really been invented, we could just get away with it."

Ambrose searched his pockets.

"I’ve got some garden wire." He said.

"Then," said the pineapple, "we are well and truly stuffed."

There was a squawk, a brief flapping of wings and the sound of something landing.

"Ta daaa!" said Sails the Robo-tern. "It is I, your technologically advanced robotic friend here to help you. I have successfully managed to avoid contact with the grumpy, arsey author…why are you both looking at me like that?"

Just to let you know the state of reality. Suddenly, at the same time, all the chairs in the known universe and its surrounding alternative realities and various time-lines, vanished. Which is quite bad really, particularly if you were sitting, or just about to sit down. Of course if you were standing up it was probably quite amusing. Then, all of sudden, to prove that the total destruction of the world does have a sort of fairness to it, everybody’s belts vanished, causing the standing citizens trousers to fall down. Which is a kind of justice.

*******

You are sooooo lucky! I can’t believe it. If it hadn’t been for everyone’s trousers falling down you’d be dead meat right now. OK, so it’s me now, you’re fine. Now then, I assume you’ve got something to add to the story at this point? Well? Get on with it, reality’s crumbling about our ears!

*******

Ambrose hitched up his trousers, using the garden wire to keep them in place. The Pineapple was still rolling about on the floor.

"I – just – can’t believe it!" He gasped between bouts of hysterical laughter "Union Jack underpants!". He was clearly going to be out of it for some time. Sails the Tern, on the other hand wasn’t.

Ambrose turned to the Tern, trying to ignore the hysterical pineapple.

"I suppose you’re going to tell me that Aristotle sees through your eyes, and he’s going to fix everything?"

"Nope! Try again."

"Err, you’re fully equipped to repair the Gnome-chewed wires, so that Aristotle will see what’s happened, and then he’s going to fix everything?"

"Not even close." The aura of smugness from the Tern was almost unbearable. I’ll kill the little flying freak myself in a minute.

Sails suddenly looked nervous. A feeling of impending doom began to creep over him.

"Okay, okay I’ll tell you. The fabric of the space-time continuum is being destroyed, right?"

"Right".

"And you think Aristotle doesn’t know, right?"

"Right again".

"Look, he’s omnipotent, for His sake! How could he not know? Do you think he doesn’t sit on a chair? Or wear trousers?"

Ambrose began to panic.

"Then why doesn’t he do something about it? There must be something he can do. I mean it stands to reason. Surely. Doesn’t it? DOESN’T IT?" Out popped that tonsil again.

There was a sound like someone being hit in the back of the head with a pineapple, and Ambrose descended slowly to the ground. The pineapple had ceased its hysterics, and dealt quite effectively with Ambrose’s.

"Right." It said, "Now he’s out of the way for a bit, why don’t you tell me why you’re here?"

*******

"I didn’t think we’d have to queue." The cloud floated, just outside Nirvana. They were maybe halfway along an enormous queue leading to the impressive-looking gates.

"Couldn’t you just – you know, use your influence? I mean, you are the new messiah." Bethany May was doing that hair-twisting-around-the-finger thing girls do when trying to get some poor bloke to do something at best dodgy, if not illegal.

Kevin considered. He was, after all, the new Messiah. He had the power to do it. But what about his moral responsibilities? What would people think if they saw the new Messiah pushing in? He explained this carefully to Bethany May. She, in turn, explained that if a certain Messiah was thinking of doing any ‘pushing in’ later, he had better get them through those gates double quick time. And so it was that for the first time in history a cloud was seen to leave skid marks.

From his office in the middle of the abstract concept that was Nirvana, Aristotle marked Kevin’s arrival. Technical ability 5.9; Artistic merit 4.8. The sun didn’t hang above Nirvana at all.

*******

Ambrose awoke, yet again. This he thought, is becoming tedious. He looked about for someone to ask again what was going on. What he saw, was some sort of void. Not entirely featureless, you understand, but pretty damn weird all the same. What concerned him slightly more was that he appeared to be suspended in it, by the garden wire holding his trousers up.

"AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAARRRRRRRRRRRGGGGGGGGGHHHHHHHH!" he screamed.

"Shhhh!" called Sails from somewhere above him. "You’ll wake the pineapple."

Looking up, Ambrose saw that somehow, the robotic Tern was managing to fly, whilst supporting both himself and the slumbering pineapple.

"What are you doing?!" he amazed himself by keeping his voice to a sort of screaming whisper.

"Flying." Replied Sails. "Shall I stop?"

"NO! ermm, I mean no, that’s quite alright. Er, where are you taking us?"

"There, in the distance – can you see it?"

Ambrose looked. At first he couldn’t see anything. Then he just made out a small blue dot in the far distance.

"What’s that?"

"Nirvana – it’s all that’s left of the entire Universe. Anything, and anyone that’s not there, or on the way there, is not – if you take my meaning."

Ambrose didn’t. "Then where are they?"

"They are not. You know - NOT. They no longer exist."

If Ambrose hadn’t have been attempting to cling on for dear life he would have let go in shock.

"Then we failed?" he managed.

Sails sighed, (and can I just say that if he hadn’t saved Ambrose and the pineapple his fancy circuitry would be used for cable repairs).

"Oooooh!" said the tern in a high pitched sarcastic tone.

"What?" said Ambrose

"Nothing - and yes, you did fail. We all did."

"What’s that supposed to mean?"

"It will all be explained later on."

The Tern did a quick turn and aimed right at Nirvana.

*******

If Caesar’s Palace had the most exquisite and luxurious interior in the known world, then Nirvana has to be the mutt’s nuts. It’s better than Heaven and better than the Garden of Eden. Whatever really nice place you can think of, Nirvana is better. I’m not going to give any descriptions because its beauty defies mere words and transcends into…Nirvana.

Kevin’s cloud floated pass something really nice looking.

"Cor!" he said, "That was…well it was…I can’t find the words."

"This is Nirvana," said Bethany May, "It’s beautiful, and its really giving me the horn."

"That’s because it’s the place of beginnings and becomings, it’s the place where nothing existed first. Without Nirvana nothing would have ever been going to have existed at all."

"What?" said Bethany,

"And since there’s nothing left, it makes sense that Nirvana is the only place that stayed in existence."

"How does that explain about me having the horn?"

"It doesn’t," he said, wondering what made him say all that other stuff. Maybe it was the inner Messiah bursting to the surface? "I reckon its because you’re falling for my animal magnetism."

"Ooh baby." said Bethany and proceeded to start to do something very naughty. Personally, I think its disgusting. Here we have the new Messiah and some girl he picked up in a coffee bar, getting jiggy with it in God’s own kingdom. Actually it might turn out to be quite biblical, if Bethany carries doing that there could well be a Second Coming.

*******

Davina Venticle…Davina Venticle…hang on, she’s not here. Of course she doesn’t exist anymore, or to put it properly she never has existed. There was no way she has been in touch with her Inner Light so Nirvana is out of the question, so she vanished and ceased to be. Oh well, I suppose its one way to deal with a loose plot thread, I wasn’t really sure what she was up to anyway.

*******

Aristotle sat in his big comfy chair and looked at the throng of people before him. There were thousands, bloomin thousands of them all chatting and looking quite pleased.

I expect you’re all wondering why people survived when everyone was supposed to have stopped existing. I’ll tell you. It was all down to Aristotle. He knew the Vibraphone would be destroyed and he knew that the only way he could save people was to spread the word about Nirvana, inner peace and transcending this reality. And all these people listened. Marvellous ain’t it?

Take a look at who’s amongst them.

Ghandi, the Dalii Lama and Mother Theresa are playing Three Card Brag by the fountains. There’s the Queen Mother teaching Jimi Hendrix ‘Any Old Iron’, and look, Sherlock Holmes, Baloo the Bear and Nelson Mandela are watching Fay from Steps Pole-dancing. And finally, because I know you’re all worried, just setting up on stage are Big Horny, Lickedy Split, Charlie ‘Two Shoes’ Mckenzie, Fatpants Jones and Tony Cake, collectively known as ‘Run Like Buggery’. Hooray!!

Aristotle was happy. It was great being God. All he had to know was wait for…ah, there they were now.

The throng of people hushed into silence and all turned to look out the big, glassless, arch windows that made up the south wall of the room. Just coming in to view was a small, wildly rocking cloud and not far to the left was a bird, carrying a large man and a pineapple.

Aristotle smiled and pointed to ‘Run Like Buggery.’

Lickedy Split did the big thumbs up and beat his drumsticks together.

"A-one, A-two, A-one, two, three, four."

And Run Like Buggery launched into their own personal anthem, which, when it had been released didn’t seem to make much sense, but here it was a different story. Tony Cake played a wild blues melody on his keyboard; Fatpants Jones slapped out a funky, no-nonsense line on his bass; Two Shoes Mckenzie wailed out a guitar solo that made Jimi Hendrix cry, and Big Horny took a deep breath and launched into, ‘Welcome to Nirvana’. The crowd went wild.

*******

Almost unnoticed, a small red spot played over the crowd, as if seeking something. It swept its way up towards the stage, played over Big Horny’s genital area, wobbled a bit, and moved on to settle right between Aristotle’s eyes.

Now here’s a dilemma. Someone’s going to kill God? In Nirvana? You would think that’s got to be a pretty serious sin, now wouldn’t you? But hang on - who’s going to dish out the punishment? After all, God’s dead, right? In fact, if he/she’s God, shouldn’t they be able to see it coming? And if they did, what would they do about it? Ah well, I’m sure we’ll find out later.

*******

Davina Venticle breathed out slowly. In a curious, almost history-repeating-itself thingy, there was no doubt about it. The Vibraphone had gone. In it’s place was an unwholesome oily black void, and it was growing. As she watched, Lucretia’s stiffening corpse was sucked into it. She backed off slowly, feeling that it might just reach out and grab her if she took her eyes off of it. Gently, so gently, she reached into her pocket and pulled out her Hole-O-Maticä space-time continuum travelling device, opened a portal, and tried to step through.

Something was very wrong with the fabric of the space-time continuum. The give-away was the big holographic sign: "The destination you have dialled is currently unavailable – please dial again." The void was creeping closer all the time. Frantically, she called up a list of available destinations – a sort of inter-dimensional directory enquiries, if you will. It was frighteningly short, and most of them were places where she would be arrested, if not killed, on arrival. There was one place she did not recognise. "N" read the listing. There was also some extra stuff about special entry requirements, but she didn’t have time to read it – the void was almost upon her. She dialled and stepped.

*******

So what do you reckon to the chances of Davina arriving behind a grassy knoll, with a perfect view of the platform upon which, sat Aristotle God of all (that was left) of creation? Pretty unlikely, huh? Not to mention the obligatory laser guided, high velocity sniper rifle that just happened to be lying there.

She tapped the Gnoll on the shoulder.

"Would you mind moving, you’re in my way. By the way, you’ve got grass all over your back."

"Yes, actually, I would" he replied. "I’ve got a perfect view here."

Taking the rifle, Davina went to find another spot.

*******

Sweat trickled between her shoulder blades. She adjusted the telescopic sight for what seemed like the fiftieth time. Once again, she centred the telescopic sight on the dot between Aristotle’s eyes. It was no good. She couldn’t do it. It was that smile. That beatific karma-centred Aristotle-damned smile. Suddenly, his head turned and he stared straight at her. The smile didn’t waver at all, as he stuck his tongue out and waggled it. He also made this noise, "Thrpthrpthrpthrpthrp".

"Sod it!" she said, and fired.

What followed was like something out of ‘The Matrix’. The bullet sped towards the fawn leaving a sort of invisible wave like trail. Then Aristotle bent backwards in slow motion. If he had bent backwards really quickly the bullet wouldn’t have shot through his stomach, out through his spine and embedded itself in mural that Van Gogh had just finished.

Being shot had a detrimental effect on the dead fawn/enlightened deity. Gushing forth from the hole in his stomach shot a river of Glee. Imagine Old Faithful, but small and green. As he staggered about he was hosing everyone with Glee. Sigmund Freud got a load in his eye, Marilyn Monroe had some up her skirt and poor little Oliver Twist got more.

"Bloody Hell!" shouted the pineapple as Sails flew in through the window, "God’s been shot!"

"Noooooooooo!" screamed Ambrose - not for death of a God, but because Sails, in his shock, had let go of Ambrose, sending him plummeting towards the floor.

Meanwhile the little white cloud had stopped rocking about and was just passing through the arched window. Kevin was (ta daa) grinning and pulling his trousers up when a spurt of Glee hit him in a rather sore area.

"Yaroo!" he screeched and fell of the cloud.

A man with a creasey face, great big lips and body that seemed to be made of bendy straws said,

"Hey! You! You fell off your cloud!" and giggled whilst waggling his bottom and clapping his hands.

"Kevin!" screamed Bethany May as Kevin fell, bouncing off some rather nice statues. As Kevin hit the floor he passed out causing the cloud to vanish in a puff of vapour. Momentum carried Bethany May forward for a little bit and dropped her right into a fountain.

"Aarfgh" went Ambrose, who had luckily bounced off the stomach of a big fat man with a curly lip and huge sideburns. He said, "AwwThankyewvurrymuch, aw, hamburgerfriedbanana. Uh Huh."

Using all his force, the pineapple leapt from Sails and, Evil Knievel-like, jumped over lots of celebrities and landed next to Aristotle, who was making some unpleasant gurgly noises.

Sails just sort of flapped about. Useless bird.

"Oi!"

Shut up.

By now, as you can guess, chaos began to ensue.

*******

Margaret Thatcher was furious. She screeched, she stamped her foot, she beat Bonzo to death with her handbag. Regan was so shocked that he died of massive heart failure. Ghengis deftly removed the top of Regan’s skull with the intention of eating his brain, only to find the cupboard was bare, so to speak.

Maggie picked up the telephone.

"Get me Gates." She snarled.

. Gorbachev poured himself another stiff drink, and tried to look inconspicuous.

"Ring ring, ring ring, ring ring – Hello?"

"Put Bill on – and stop making that fake telephone-ringing noise – you’re not fooling anyone."

"Hold the line, please."

There followed fifteen minutes of premium-rate ‘Greensleeves’ during which Margaret became progressively more angry, and Gorbachev slumped lower and lower into his chair.

"I’m sorry, Mr Gates in unavailable right now."

"Now look you stupid, Barbie doll sound-alike I want –"

"Putting you through to Product Support."

More ‘Greensleeves’. More anger. More slumping. Ghengis had started on Bonzo’s brains.

"Hi my name is Malcolm, I’ll be your Product Support representative. How can I help you?"

"WHERE’S GATES!" Screamed Margaret, foam and god knows what else coating the mouthpiece.

"Can I assume Madam is experiencing some difficulty with one of our products?"

"Too bloody right I am! This damnable ‘Reality ‘98ä ’ you sold us - it’s crashed, big time."

"Oh? What were the circumstances of the anomaly?"

"Anomaly? ANOMALY!? That damned Venticle construct has just assassinated Aristotle! That’s the bloody circumstance!" The mouthpiece was barely visible beneath a thick film of goo.

"I see."

There was the sound of someone hurriedly crossing something out on a piece of paper.

" Well I don’t seem to have ‘Reality ‘98ä ’ on my list of currently supported products, please hold."

Yet more bloody ‘Greensleeves’.

A new voice.

"Margaret? Hi. Bill here. I understand you’re having a few difficulties."

"Now look here, Gates. When you sold us this bloody virtual reality, I made it quite clear that the whole purpose was to discover the path to enlightenment. That’s all we wanted. Run you little fantasy through, with one or two real people in the simulation, and bob’s your uncle – Inner Light. You promised!"

"Well, I’m not sure I ever promised anything –"

"You bloody did! It says so on the box."

"Margaret, Margaret. Look at it like this. We could argue all day about who promised who what, and then the lawyers get involved, and we both end up in a messy court case that could last for centuries – or alternatively, you could upgrade."

"Upgrade?"

"Yeah, now let me tell you all about ‘Reality 2000’ä …"

POP!

Ambrose sat back in his chair and chewed thoughtfully on the last fried sausage.

"Hmmmm", munch, munch, "Hmmmmm" he went.

"Everything alright dear?" asked a voice from Ambrose’s bijoux kitchenette.

"Marvellous Lucretia, Marvellous."

Out from the kitchen slunk Miss Moneyfennig. She leaned sexily on the kitchen doorframe and flicked a stray strand of hair from her eyes. All she was wearing was one of Ambrose’s shirts, the sleeves hung past her hands and the skirt tails barely covered the tops of her legs. Had it not been for the vindaloo stains smeared all over the shirt the whole effect would have been Hrrgargleworthy.

"I was wondering," said Ambrose, scooping up a forkful of scrambled eggs, "Have you seen my Harmonium?"

"No!No!No!" screamed Margeret, the phone was so frothy now you could have stuck a flake in it an sold it to a child, "I am not having that!"

The voice on the phone smarmily grinned. You couldn’t see it, but you can tell, can’t you?

"Okay, try another option."

POP!

Ambrose put the instrument down.

"And that was Beethoven’s Fifth." And then he took a bow.

The crowd went wild and a lovely young woman in the front row waved at him.

"Now," said Ambrose, flicking the tails of jacket back, "A little number from some close personal friends of mine. This is the seventh track from the album ‘Noddy Was A Filthy Pimp and Big Ears Sniffed Cocaine.’ It is, of course, ‘Crunchy Albumen’ by Run Like Buggery!"

The crowd, as crowds do, went wild. The lovely young women exposed her breasts to show off her new Ambrose tattoo. That’s not part of the story but, what the hell.

Somewhere, right at the back of the arena sat a little old lady. She was rubbing her hands in a strange green substance and cackling to herself. I know the music’s loud, but if you strained your ears you could just make out what she was saying.

"Hehh he he he, as soon as he hits E sharp, it bye bye birdy, a ha he ho ha chortle fnarr ho he."

Mad as a brush.

Ambrose was giving it his all. He would like to be giving to the lovely young lady, who was now jumping up and down.

"Oh, its not the colour I usually like," sang Ambrose, "But if it’s all that’s left I’ll take it!"

You can all see what’s coming.

BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOMMMMMMMMM!

POP!

Margaret had chewed the end off of the phone, and was shouting down the stubby end.

"GivemewhatIwantyouspeccygitorIshallcutofyourprivatesandfeedthemtoGhengis!!!!"

"Hey, Mags, calm down – a few of the guys here have had a look at the old problem and we think we’ve got a fix for it."

Margaret breathed heavily.

"You have?"

"Suuuree, watch"

POP!

Aristotle was happy. It was great being God. All he had to know was wait for…ah, there they were now.

Aristotle smiled and pointed to ‘Run Like Buggery.’

Lickedy Split did the big thumbs up and beat his drumsticks together.

"A-one, A-two, A-one, two, three, four."

*******

And there it was, laid out before them. The secret of Inner Light. Spiritual Enlightenment. For years, the Super Powers That Be had murdered, maimed, mutilated and done lots of other things beginning with M, and it had all been leading up to this moment. The fabric of the space-time continuum had been reduced to the likeness of a net curtain. And for what? So that four decrepit old has-beens could find their way to Nirvana. It hardly seems fair, does it? Well, it isn’t. And maybe that’s why the fabric of the space time continuum decided to get it’s own back.

In less than an instant, the secret, hallowed chambers of the Super Powers That Be, and everything within, ceased to exist. Not even so much as a pop. Nothing. There one nanosecond, gone the next. Probably quicker than that really. But as only one person witnessed it, it hardly matters.

*******

The bald man sat back in his chair. Through the eyes of Sails the Robo-Tern, he could see that everything in Nirvana was going splendidly. Run Like Buggery were just launching into their fourth encore "The Sun’s floating like a yellow marshmallow in a cup of blue tea" (from the highly successful "What did you put in my Cornflakes?" album), and the Sun was floating like a yellow marshmallow in a cup of blue tea. Tiddles the Hamster was settling into his new role of ‘Minister for Cameo appearances’, Davina Venticle was still trying to get over her surprise at finding Miss Moneypfennig alive and well and starring opposite her in the new film "Tomb Raider 2000 – so I’ve got a twin sister?"

But what of Ambrose? After all he had gone through, what of him? He was smiling, that’s what he was doing. He had a great big grin on his devilishly handsome face and was getting on down and taking his funky stuff out for a strut. Whilst he was shaking his groove thing he noticed a pretty, blonde-haired girl, smiling at him.

"Hrrgargle" he went.

The bald man’s attention turned to two other figures, in a cloud. The view wasn’t marvellous but from the noises the couple were making, they seemed to be happy.

"Fol-de-rol" said Kevin, "Fol-de-bloomin’-rol"

With a smile to himself, and a kind thought to the writers, the bald man leant forward and, somewhat reluctantly, pressed a button.

Click.

THE END ?