CHAPTER SIX
Exactly two minutes later Crawfie re-enters the hall
to thunderous applause and some mild mannered jeering from the GIT’s table.
“Cwawfie, Cwawfie,” cries Mr. Woss, “we had almost given up on you, please,
come accept youwe awawd.”
Crawfie bounds up the stairs rubbing his hands
together in maniacal glee muttering ‘wodaviwun, wodaviwun’. He grabs his award
and as he takes it and realises what it is, Crawfie’s face, never a pretty
sight takes on a distinctly unpleasant look.
The GIT table can hardly contain themselves – they
know what’s coming next; the rest of the hall is politely applauding.
“Well done old boy,” shouts the Count, “jolly good
show. I wish I could win an award for ‘begging for points’.”
“Bloody disgrace Crawfie,” cries Pants, “They’re
taking the piss.”
“How the mighty have fallen,” chimes in Marty,
“didn’t you win the big one once upon a time?”
Crawfie has undergone a colour transformation: From
when he first bounded onto the stage with a beery pink hue to his cheeks to a
sickly white upon the awful realization that he had a mere minor prize to a now
explosive red. Beads of sweat break out on his forehead but evaporate before
they have a chance to roll down his face. His head trembles as if about to erupt.
When he speaks, however, it is surprisingly with a calm clear voice.
“Ladies & gentlemen, fellow GIT’s,” he said, “I
thank you for this wonderful award.”
“Yeah…right,” shouts Joe.
“Oh do pull the other one old boy,” the Count chimes
in.
“They’re still taking the piss!” cries Pants.
“I thank you for this award,” repeated Crawfie, “and
the next person to say anything about it is going to get it shoved up their
arse.”
The crowd becomes deathly quiet. Even the GIT table
who at this stage are beside themselves with glee manages to control itself.
Mrs Flagg & Mr. Biggins, embarrassed, can only stare at the floor.
The moment of threatened violence passes. Crawfie’s
face now returns to normal & at close inspection one could see his eyes
looking longingly towards the bar.
Alas, stage left the curtain opens & Herb
Williamson enters pushing a rather fragile looking piano.
“Oh I say,” says Herb, “looks like someone’s won a
rather nice award – what did you get that for?”
Crawfie’s reaction is swift & decisive. He
disappears behind the curtain and when he returned the award is missing, as is
Herb Williamson. The piano perhaps out of sympathy implodes.
And then…
All of a sudden and as if by magic all of the windows
and doors fly open! The assembled throng look round and suddenly realize that
it’s a cold, dark, windy night. Suddenly everyone is afraid….very afraid. They
have realised that in Yalding no-one can hear you scream. Captain Pete is
standing there and everyone turns to face him. In a dark brown voice he says,
“I've seen things you people wouldn't believe. Attack
ships on fire off the shoulder of Orion. I watched C-beams glitter in the dark
near the Tanhauser gate. All those moments will be lost in time like tears in
rain. Time to die."
“Star wars!” shouts Pants.
“No no old boy, it’s Star Trek surely,” tries the Count.
“Actually it’s Blade Runner,” corrects Marty, “But
more to the point, why is he saying it?”
“Crawfie’s run out of stuff to write so he’s just
creating filler,” say’s Joe, “it’s a common enough trick – try reading ‘the
piano tuner’ that’s got about 300 pages of filler.”
“Frankly m’dear, I couldn’t give a damn,” says the
Captain, all the while his eyes becoming wilder. “Colour me beautiful…colour me
beautiful….,” he screams.
As if overcome with emotion he slumps in his seat.
Order returns to the room and as if by magic all the
windows and doors closed themselves. All is suddenly good in Yalding.
Mr Biggins again takes centre stage, he taps the
microphone but no water comes out of it.
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