Episode Four:

A Clockwork

Vitamin C Rich Fruit

There at the door, to the amazement of the spectators, clutching at their various whips, newspapers and hats, was a woman, about seventy years of age. "Hi," she said. "Ah, how are you all?" The woman had a rather high voice. She surveyed the crowd, judging their mood to be rather perplexed and perhaps a little frightened.

"Well, I decided that I should come now, it is important news that I bring. I would like you all to be quiet so everyone can hear." The woman pulled a piece of paper from her pocket, clearing her throat. "I hope that I am speaking loud enough. Can you hear at the back?" There was no answer.

Everyone stood in a daze, Woozlewazza, Lesley, Fiona and Iggy gaping at the woman. She seemed a bit unsettled by the attention and the stillness of the crowd. "Ah, I am sorry to disturb you in your practices . . ." She glanced briefly at a bed to her left. ". . . but what I have to say is important and I am sure you would agree." Once again she cleared her throat. "The following people . . ." she looked around for effect. "Have overdue library books."

The crowd stirred, confused. "Linton Ye Perverted Bakerman, Anne Ye Senile Old Woman Who Scares The Children Of The Neighbourhood . . ." She continued to read out a list of people.

"Hey!!!" someone in the crowd yelled out. "That’s not Jessica Fletcher, that’s Bitch Blain Ye Old Grouchy Librarian!!!"

"Yeah!" some others called.

Suddenly the audience was in turmoil. People were calling aloud, screaming at the trick the old woman had pulled. There was general annoyance before a man in the crowd, the first to stand up, aimed a gun at the old woman and blew her head off.

"That was a bit harsh wasn’t it?" Woozlewazza said, wondering whether the woman had been rich.

The crowd ran to the door and dragged the bloody corpse of the librarian out, stuck it on a pike. "Thith is getting too gross!" Lesley wailed.

With all the commotion, no one, except a certain lizard noticed the approach of a woman of about seventy from the other side of the courtyard. She looked around at the people and what was going on.

"Hey!" Iggy screamed. "There she is!" Everyone in the courtyard turned around, enthused, hopeful and were rewarded when they saw the graceful and inspiring image of Jessica Fletcher.

"Jessica!" the people cried. They bowed down in front of the perplexed sleuth, responding as she saw fit. "Yes! Honour me!" she raised her hands as the crowd went into tumult, screaming recklessly, jumping, waving, crying as if in some sort of ultimate confusion, ranting as if in an idealist’s utopia.

"Since when did this sleuth become a mighty goddeth?" Lesley asked in a mocking tone.

Woozlewazza stepped up to the woman. "Jesus Christ woman!" he slapped her. "Show some freaking respect, it’s obvious she’s holy!"

Lesley looked ready to attack Woozlewazza, instead she breathed deeply, preparing herself for a verbal assault. "Did you ever see her thow!?! If you had you wouldn’t be calling her holy!"

"Wait a minute! Just before you said you loved her!"

"Yeah I love the character and the actreth, but the show wath pretty crap!"

Woozlewazza was sure he didn’t understand the logic behind this. Jessica Fletcher, as if displaying super hearing ability, turned suddenly to the lesbian at the back of the crowd. "Did I hear," she began, "someone insult my show?" An oddly-placed spotlight lit up on Lesley. Gameshow-like music piped through non-existent speakers, and the buildings lit up crazily. A voice over began with a terribly enthusiastic tone. "And now, everyone’s favourite gameshow! Disgruntled Deities Take On Their Ungrateful Subjects!" The crowd roared with approval as Lesley stood, flummoxed.

"Ah," she started before the voice over resumed.

"Woman in Rags, come on down!"

The spotlights buzzed around Lesley and a group of cheerful hostesses with painful grins on their faces and tightly fitting silver bikinis, came to escort Lesley to the stage, which had miraculously appeared in the last few seconds. "I think they mean you," Woozlewazza observed helpfully.

"Yeth, I think tho."

The women took Lesley by the arms, she was suddenly alarmed by the firm grip that they applied to her arms. She turned a worried glance to her companions as she walked to the stage, through the parted crowd.

Jessica Fletcher, or Angela Lansbury, which ever one you think most appropriate, glared down at Lesley as she stood in front of the stage. The super Sleuth was on top of a tall, blue pedestal, adorned in rather odd garb, reminiscent of a costume that someone from the show Gladiators, would wear. It was a tight blue leotard, with red trimming and a flashy silver ‘F’ on the front.0

Lesley walked rather incompetently up the stairs, guided by another set of hostesses. They helped her mount the pedestal opposite Jessica Fletcher. "Ah, what are we doing?" she asked nervously.

The hostesses smiled their terribly painful smiles, handing Lesley a long pole with padding on each end. "What do I do with thith?" she asked, hesitantly taking the pole. They made some wild hand movements, turned and smiled to the crowd and then signalled to a man who stood centre stage.

"Is everyone ready?" the man said with deep enthusiasm. The crowd roared in response. "I said, is everybody ready!?!?!?" They repeated their response, hooting, applauding, groaning and screaming to Jessica, seemingly no one in support of Lesley. The lesbian looked around cautiously, giving her friends a plaintive glance.

"Go Jessica!!!" Woozlewazza shouted. "Kill the lesbian!"

Fiona looked at Woozlewazza in shock. "Woozy, we should be supporting Lesley! She must be terrified!" Fiona turned back around, facing the stage. "Go Lesley!" she chanted.

Lesley scanned the crowd and found that they were all screaming for her death, except for Fiona, who was giving Lesley a supportive look. The man at centre stage raised his hands and the audience went mad. "In the red corner . . ." Lesley studied her pedestal and was quite sure that it was black, rather than red, and her drab rags certainly didn’t display any colour. " . . . We have Rag Woman!" The applause of the crowd and their approving chants immediately ceased and a fit of booing erupted. Lesley was sure that was not a good sign of her popularity. "And," the man continued, waiting for the audience to quite down, "In the Blue corner, we have, everyone’s favourite Deity, Jessica Fletcher!!!" The crowd resumed their ecstatic applause as they doubtless would.

"Can I go now?" Lesley asked, bending down and waving her arms at the man. She received no response and looking up, caught the menacing glare of Jessica Fletcher. She could see the woman mouth the words, ‘You are going to die!’

"So, everyone, we are reeeeeeeeeaaaaaaaaaaaddddddddyyyyyyyyyy to rooooooooooollllllllllll!!!"

The man turned to Lesley and her allegedly holy opponent. "Let the game begin!!!"

The pedestals began to move closer, and when within one metre of each other, Jessica Fletcher immediately struck out, rather weakly at Lesley with her pole. Lesley became suddenly enraged, a devilish glare developing in her eyes. She gritted her teeth and looked into the eyes of her elderly opponent. "Take thith bitch!"

Lesley wielded her weapon with apparent expertise, swinging it overhead. Her hands gripped the pole tightly, reddening with the severe pressure that she held it. The next three seconds passed very slowly for the two combatants and all too fast for the bloodthirsty audience.

Lesley snarled violently, her pole raised as Jessica Fletcher brought her own pole up again, taking her hands back and swiping it at Lesley’s shins. With deft agility, Lesley sprung from her pedestal, avoiding the pole of her adversary, which swung below her feet harmlessly. To Lesley it seemed she hovered in the air for a long time, but it was really only a second, her feet softly padded the pedestal as she came back down in slow motion. Jessica Fletcher was still in the motion of swinging the pole, bringing it back around and readying herself for a second swipe, when Lesley brought her pole around, giggling with hysterical evilness "Gee gee gee." The pole came flying towards Jessica Fletcher’s side, with an extreme and unreal slowness.

The ancient sleuth cried out, "Nooooooo," in a terribly slowed and deep voice. The pole thudded into her side and in an instant time snapped back into the right tempo for the two women. Jessica immediately fell from her pedestal, crashing to the floor of the stage, with a gasp from the audience adding a rather poignant effect.

The following is the same scene as the audience saw it:

It happened so quickly. Jessica Fletcher swiped at Lesley’s legs, but the lesbian jumped and the pole moved beneath her feet quickly. Lesley then an instant later swung her pole around, hitting Jessica in the side, pushing her off the pedestal, and crashing down onto the floor.

The audience was silent for a moment. The host on the stage was bewildered. He looked at the grinning lesbian still atop her pedestal, then at the crippled form of the female detective on the ground.

He watched unwittingly as a team of medics trotted onto the stage, collecting Jessica, and carrying her away on a stretcher. The medics were oddly dressed in tight football shorts and small white t-shirts. "Hut hut hut hut hut," they chanted as they took J F away.

The host looked to the audience. "Well, what a show," he said weakly.

All of a sudden, a group at the back of the crowd started cheering wildly. "Yeah Lesley!!!!"

"Well, ok then," the host said, puzzled. "The winner!!!" he was suddenly enthused. "Rag Woman!" Lesley leant down and whispered something to him. "Oh, ok. Lesley! The Alcoholic Lesbian!"

The crowd responded accordingly, cheering wildly for their new champion. Woozlewazza quickly conformed. "Yeah, hooray for the lemon!" Everyone in the crowd joined in. "Lemon, lemon, lemon!!!" This meant little to them, but they all had the idea in their heads that they had found their new deity.

"No one messes with me!" Lesley screamed.

In the distance the four medics could still be seen, and heard in the quieter moments of the crowd. "Hut hut hut hut," they chanted still. They turned briefly, noticing the audience was paying no further attention to them.

"OK, your holiness, you can get up now," one of them said to the still form on the stretcher. Suddenly her eyes snapped open.

"I thought it was a brilliant plan, but I didn’t think it would work this well!" the old woman cakled. "Of course there was one little detail that I left out. I didn’t account for the height of the pedestal." She paused, noticing that the men were not really comprehending what she was saying. "I am hurt you know. I didn’t think that I would get a broken hip, but there you go, that’s how it is at my age."

Still nothing from the men. "That means, you imbeciles, I need a doctor!!!"

"Oh," they said in perfect unison, resuming to carry her off.

"Finally I don’t have to hang around here anymore. Sure this deity thing was a kick at first but it easily gets tiresome. As if one ‘coming’ isn’t enough. Then they wasn’t the second coming." She laughed uncontrollably. "Well they can have their lemon now, she should make a good god."

The men rounded a corner, and continued on their way. "Hut hut hut hut hut hut hut."

Back on the hill where the ship had originally landed . . .

The ship made its miraculous return with no witnesses. As it halted its advance on the ground, a fit of swearing and generally bad language could be heard form within. The door was carelessly opened with another persistent bout of swearing and from it emerged Panagiotis.

"F#$k them all!" he cursed. "I should rip their f#$king hearts out. Especially that obscenely smug Woozlewazza!" He raged around for a while, finding little but bushes and small furry animals to torment. "Where the f#$k are they!?!?" he asked, screaming at a scared rabbit-like creature.

The animal suddenly obtained a wicked glare in its eyes. It looked at Panagiotis. "How the fuck am I meant to know?!?" the creature screamed. "Do you think I concern myself with everyone else’s fucking business?!?"

Panagiotis, alarmed, dropped the animal, it scampered around his feet. "Well? What do you think I am? The fucking info box?" It began gnawing at his ankle, Panagiotis screamed, waving his leg around. He eventually managed to kick the animal away into one of the bushes. There was silence for a moment until the tiny creature came rampaging from the bushes once more. Panagiotis squealed, running for the ship. He made it inside the door and slammed it shut.

The rabbit thing was jumping at the door, madly screaming and swearing. "Well," Panagiotis said to himself. "What a foul mouthed little wretch."

Back in the town . . .

As associates of the deity, Woozlewazza, Fiona and Iggy found themselves in a rather extreme form of comfort and luxury. Lesley was all the while giggling to herself, as Woozlewazza concerned himself with the buxom form of the servant girls. Iggy was pointing a clawed toe at one of the waiters, accusing him of being an idiot for not knowing whether there were any Guinnesses available for him.

Fiona stared out of the window pondering the meaning of it all. She decided that she could not maintain the charade any longer. She would tell them all. Soon.

The room which they relaxed in was a splendour to the eye. It displayed one of the most keenly decorated interiors which Woozlewazza had ever seen. The walls were a comfortable peach, the ceiling a lovely mahogany, extending itself as far as possible, and holding up a magnificent chandelier, a mass of shimmering crystals. The chairs were of deep red leather, the carpet soft and matching the wall colour. The curtains around the windows were of a delicate velvet, a colour similar to that of the chairs.

"Well," Woozlewazza declared. "I could live here forever."

Lesley concurred briefly with a simple mindless giggle. "Gee gee gee."

"I am afraid that we can’t do that," Fiona said softly.

Everyone looked up at the girl in confusion. Even Maurice the Masseuse, who was currently massaging Lesley with wonderfully smelling oils, glanced up briefly, puzzled at this logic. "You don’t really know who I am," Fiona stated simply.

"Sure, honey," Woozlewazza said. "You are a stupid dimwit, now sit down and be quiet."

"No," she replied. "My real name is . . ." she paused as if afraid. "My name is Bond," she paused once again, this time for dramatic effect, "Simian Ion Combustion Nasal Junction Bond."

"What the hell are you on girl?" Iggy asked with the utmost seriousness.

"I know you think that I am the most ridiculously simple-minded person in the universe but you are mistaken. I am not what I am." They all stared at her, not understanding at all. "I have been playing the stupid blonde for eight years. The truth is that I am belong to a race of people who are really in control of the universe. We are a complex race, within extreme intelligence. You . . ." she pointed at Woozlewazza, Lesley and Iggy, who were startled by this. "You have on earth several representatives of our race. William Shakespeare was one of us, Madonna is one of us, the Fat kid from Hey Dad is one of us." Two of the earthlings cringed remembering the terrible Australian sitcom. Woozlewazza stared vacantly thinking that it must be another show that was on after his departure from earth through the time warp.

"So?" Woozlewazza began. "What exactly do you do?"

"We control everything. And it was my job on Squa to act dumb and make sure the people didn’t concern themselves with conquest of other planets."

"You did a good job, then," Woozlewazza commented. "On the dumb thing I mean."

"Yeah, thanks, I think." Fiona, or Simian Ion Combustion Nasal Junction Bond looked around. "Ah, where was I?"

"I think you were finished," Lesley suggested. "Or tho it theemed."

"Yes ah . . . er. No! I know. Squa and well the whole of the freaking solar system that it is in became rather, shall we say, debauched and depraved. So we passed moral judgement and sentenced them all to impotence."

"I see! So it was you who ruined my career?!" Woozlewazza yelled accusingly.

"Yes, sorry about that."

"You took your f#$king time!" cursed Iggy. "That planet had been like that for over a decade!"

"Yes well, do you know how many perverted planets there are in the universe? It takes a damn long time to analyse them all!"

"Granted," Woozlewazza said.

"So that is why I am going to Earth," Simian Ion Combustion Nasal Junction Bond said.

"Tho what ith why you are going to Earth?" Lesley asked confuthed, I mean confused.

"Well your planet has become too depraved, obsessed with sex and drunkenness." With this Simian Ion Combustion Nasal Junction Bond looked right at Lesley.

"Why are you looking at me?"

"You know very well! We don’t just halt conflict between planets. We feel it is our duty to cleanse the minds of the masses."

"She has gone mad," Iggy declared in a very Irish voice.

"So I must get to Earth, where several representatives have been sent to prepare!"

"Prepare for what?" Woozlewazza asked tentatively.

"For the invasion and annihilation of your race, Mr. Wazza. The utter destruction of all Humans!"

The room gasped. Maurice looked up briefly, gasping in astonishment, before continuing to massage Lesley. "You like it, milady?" Lesley nodded in approval.

"So," Simian Ion Combustion Nasal Junction Bond continued. "I must be going to earth now. I have seen that the ship has returned." They all craned their necks to look out of the window, and saw in the distance a metal form on the hill on the horizon. "So since it would be pointless to take more humans along, as our goal is destruction. I must eliminate you here!!!"

"But it will take you 14 million years to get there!!!" Woozlewazza screamed.

"I have to technology to combat time!"

"Why didn’t you kill us before then?"

"I thought I would wait till we got to earth, as I wanted to leave the control of the ship in the lizard’s hands, as it was foreign to me, but now I am just sick of you!"

Simian Ion Combustion Nasal Junction Bond took a small, black gun from her jacket. It buzzed and the end glowed red as she aimed it at the three earthlings. "Hey!" Iggy protested. "I am not human, I am an Iguana!"

"Even Worse," she snarled. "Now prepare to . . ."

Iggy quickly flung the bottle that the waiter brought him – a beverage similar to beer. Iggy had scrawled on the label "Guinness". The bottle made its short journey from Iggy’s claws to Simian Ion Combustion Nasal Junction Bond’s head.

She collapsed suddenly, the gun landing harmlessly on the floor. Woozlewazza seized the weapon and held it triumphantly above his head. "Quick, we have to get back to Earth!"

Lesley sprung up, clothing herself behind the wide back of Maurice. "You could almost turn me heterosexual!" she said to the muscular man.

She then ran to the limp body of Simian Ion Combustion Nasal Junction Bond, searched through her pockets and found a small black rectangular box. She studied it briefly before pocketing it.

She looked at Fiona’s face. How could you? She thought to herself before turning to join Iggy and Woozlewazza. "Do you think she will be OK?"

"Yeah, she is only knocked out," Iggy assured her, wishing he had time to kill Simian Ion Combustion Nasal Junction Bond.

"I don’t know if I want to leave!" Lesley said suddenly. "I have all this here for me. I am their freaking God afterall! I can do what I want and they worship me!"

"Yes," Woozlewazza agreed, "But in fifty years you will just end up like Jessica Fletcher, combating an ungrateful subject! All that will come of this is a broken hip," he warned. Lesley felt inclined to believe him for some reason. "Come on! Let’th go thave the Earth!"

"Ah, what did she say?" Iggy asked Woozlewazza.

"It doesn’t matter my reptile companion. We have no time. Let’s go save the Earth!"

It must be noted that the title of this part (which I am sure has led to the suicide of many people due to the confusion that it will no doubt create) is adapted from the film of the name A Clockwork Orange, by the late director Stanley Kubrik. Just wanted to clear that up!

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Last updated: 11/05/99