 |  |
|
|
|
 |
|
 |
|
Parodies |
 |
|
|
|
 |
|
Mattbeth and the Crones
by typewright
 The author is a regular contributor to the Fantasy Archers topic of . They write: "Lilian recently said that Matt was meeting some 'cronies' - it sounded more like 'crones'. So is this what really happened?
SCENE: A blasted heath strongly reminiscent of Grundy's Field. Three strange-looking figures are stirring a blackened pot over a camping stove dangerously close to a tent.
MYSTIC SANDRA:
Round about the cauldron go;
In the vile ingredients throw.
JOSH: And cut! Right, now I'll do a close-up.
MYSTIC AGNES:
Scarper, brat.
Fillet of a long-lashed calf,
David's 'What?' and Lilian's laugh,
Eye of Mike and bust of Vick,
Wool of sheep from Pip's mapstick,
Pat of cow and Jill's bee's sting,
Lizard's heart and rare owl's wing…
MYSTIC RUBY:
Wail of Pip and Jude's big toe,
Bet of Eddie, cough of Joe,
Tentacle of octopus
He's no psychic! What a fuss.
Add thereto a tiger's tag
Then the charm is in the bag.
ALL:
Double, double toil and trouble;
Fire burn and cauldron bubble.
MYSTIC SANDRA:
By the pricking of my thumbs,
Something dodgy this way comes.
Enter MATTBETH, BANE OF AMBRIDGE
MATTBETH:
How now, you secret, black and midnight hags,
What's up?
WITCHES:
Wouldn't you like to know? And don't be so rude. Do you want us to help you or not?
MATTBETH:
Yeah, yeah, yeah.
I conjure you, by that which you profess,
Howe'er you come to know it, answer me:
Though wheat should rot and veal calves be not bought,
Though sausage burst and fete should come to naught,
Though volunteers should wreck the village shop,
Though Adam fail to sell his strawberry crop,
Though Kath and Jolene wail from morn till e'en,
Though Lilian run out of fags and gin,
Though BL topple and though Jude return,
Though you knock o'er that fire and your tent burn,
Even till destruction sicken, answer me!
WITCHES:
Get on with it.
MATTBETH:
There's something that is making me feel queasy,
That property o'er which Puss-Cat's uneasy.
And then there's Brian and Annabelle. Just what
Are they both up to? What's their little plot?
What's Amside's future? Quickly! Tell me all!
Or I'll go down to Sea World and ask Paul.
MYSTIC AGNES:
Don't mention octopuses to us.
MYSTIC RUBY:
OK, just look into the cauldron. Many strange signs will be shown.
But I smell strangers!
MYSTIC SANDRA:
Tis the stench of Colmans!
Avaunt, all ye of Mustard Land*! Begone!
SFX: horrible wailing noises, a bit like Pip on Tuesday but worse. The screens go all wobbly and then blank.
FINIS
[*Mustardland is the affectionate nickname for the Archers message board, because of its background colour].
<<Back
|
|
 | |  |
|
|
|
 |
|
