The Klingons eye the the pasta, asking "Is your gagh stewed properly?". (Gagh is a Klingon delicacy of (usually live) serpent worms, usually eaten raw, but occasionally eaten stewed.) The Klingons ask if it was cooked properly live, and what the stew surrounding the worms is*. They are developing respect for these Italians who appear to share ethnic cuisine with them.
*of the 51 kinds of gagh, the most popular ones are:
Bithool gagh, which has feet Filden gagh, which squirms Meshta gagh, which jumps Torgud gagh, which wiggles Wistan gagh, which is packed in targ blood (a targ looks like a wild boor with rhino horns and very sharp fins down its back. Very aggressive.)
The translator puts the question to Pietro and the technical wizard, their cousin Chiara. (The whole Italian contingent is related to each other some where along the line this year and bored the rest of the family to death planning it on the family Zoom calls).
Chiara had been feeling quite relieved that the visuals didn't look too bad, and that the lo-tech approach to staging had paid off. At an explanation of the Klingon's question, she goes a delicate shade of green.
Having gulped enough times she says that she can't say exactly what type of pasta it was, but it would have been perfectly cooked. At this point Pietro interjects that it definitely would have been absolutely delicious.
Practice: while we wait for the next entry here is a word from our sponsors
Sponsors: Buy our stuff. Why not try our new prune pasta? A warrior would never go without it.
More pertinently Thierry and Patrice, who is still left to perform? I think the green room and audience alike might be getting confused in all this chaos.
'Oh here, can I do my Kate Bush? I'm brilliant at that so I am'.
'Sure. Why not?'
'Youse are having all the fun. Can I do Annie's Song?'
'How's about a bit of snare with that? See me, see Boléro, I'm all over it'.
The audience are treated to a musical tapestry of ostinato drum beat, warbling flute, crashing guitar cords and Ayesha gamely running up that hill, all accelerating to a finale reminiscent of grand pianos exploding in a cats' home during a thunderstorm.
Thiery: I am hearing from the director and we seem to be missing the entry from the USA. Can anyone find them. Have you checked down the back of the sofa
USA apologizes for the huge delay. After much flouncing, tears, temper tantrums and stolen castles, all but one of the cast has isolated somewhere in Hermosa.
So, without further ado, I present: pssssttt...Ms Jedi, there are three of us.
Wait just a sec...I thought there was just one of you left. Sorry about that!!
Again, I present: Victor, Hugo, and Laverne
As our three brave...umm...stony faced singers take the stage, it does not escape anyone's notice that they each have a bat'leth.
In lieu of a castle, the stage is covered top to bottom with knick knacks from all the souvenir kiosks in the Sanford airport. Thank goodness these gentlebeings foresaw the possibility of a problem.
Ohhh, the bells of Orlando...
(Bat'leths clash as Victor, Hugo and Laverne battle in time to the lyrics) The Financiers finance, the Mousies and Ducks
Bathe in the gold and silver thrown by the crowd
While Orlando is turned upside-down.
(V,H &L lean on the Bat'leths as the Klingons threaten to wipe the stage clear. The scent? aroma? odor? of prune juice fills the air.)
(Drums appear, V,H &L whack the weapons on the drums...all at slightly differing tempi. It's not pretty.)
Beat the drums!!! Dance with the strumpets!
Our stony faces are horrible and frightening!
Foolish king, here's your crown
Glittered with fairy dust and signed by Michael M.
(The Klingons rush the stage and are totally shocked that they can't move or harm V,H and L.)
Seemingly, apparently but not really
Motion is different from others.
Ring that Bell! There's a beautiful Belle!
The Monster is not who you think it is!
(With a flourish, and flash of bat'leths, amazing fireworks are set off, and the whole stage is awash in a wonderful world of color!)
Then after muffled consultation backstage and much whispered hisses of “Oi! Liechtenstein, you’ve forgotten to unmute yourself!” Helena Belena herself appears on the Zoom Screen. She is looking distinctly pale and keeps looking back over one shoulder to check for any stray Klingons. She doesn’t really think that any managed to stow away on the journey home, but you can never be too careful. Her dress is covered in enough prune stains as it is. In the background, the audience can see equally dazed Swiss Miss Belles removing the last of the Eurocheese from their ear canals.
“Ahem! Vaduz callling. This is an announcement from the Liechtensteiner jury: After due consideration and consultation with the people of the principality, we have decided to invoke our famed neutrality and award every contestant the maximum 12 points, ourselves included. You will be astounded to learn that in a move unprecedented in the entire history of the contest, all of our citizens (all 37,000 of them), have voted for this course of action.
This unusual move has, of course, everything to do with our national principal of peace and love for all; not, as some might infer, from the fact that we’re scared shitless by the Klingons and their groupies and never wish to drink a drop of prune juice ever again; even if it’s served up with a bowl of All Bran topped with whipped cream.
Oh, and the USA is welcome to our castle.
Might we suggest that next time, (if there is a next time) we hold the contest aboard the ISS Space Station. Then at least the place will be Covid, (if not Klingon) free.”
The Klingons demand to know what's going on with cultural appropriation! They get distracted however with what they think is a put-off by Liechtenstein. Did they not make it clear that they're enraptured by alpenhorns? Perhaps it is a Lichtensteiner custom to be disdainful of your admirers? They are completely at a loss with the Americans however. They appear quite noble bit what's going on with the bat'leths?
After consultation, the Klingons decide to open up the bar and pay for everything. Prune juice, pile drivers and Euro earcheese for everyone! Are there no more baguettes? This could lead to conflict!
The Klingons demand to know what's going on with cultural appropriation! They get distracted however with what they think is a put-off by Liechtenstein. Did they not make it clear that they're enraptured by alpenhorns? Perhaps it is a Lichtensteiner custom to be disdainful of your admirers? They are completely at a loss with the Americans however. They appear quite noble bit what's going on with the bat'leths?
After consultation, the Klingons decide to open up the bar and pay for everything. Prune juice, pile drivers and Euro earcheese for everyone! Are there no more baguettes? This could lead to conflict!
No, no, not at all! You’re welcome to keep the alpenhorns. Help yourself! It’s not that we don’t like you, but Liechtenstein is so very small and all the Klingon enthusiasm might be rather overwhelming. We treasure the peace and tranquility of the alpine vibe. Banging and crashing isn’t really our thing.
Thierry: Thanks USA for your entry. Very...er...stirring.
Right please start voting, except for Lichtenstein. Remember the Eurovision voting system. You
Can award points 1-8 then 10 and 12. OK Ship of Fools get voting
After all the entries have been posted the competing countries vote. You cannot vote for yourself. Depending on how many we get the voting follows thusly. Your favourite act gets 12 points, Your next favourite act 10 points and down to however many we end up with.
The Klingons are hoping the vote is honest. In that light they announce that they will continue to pay for all the drinks and food. And carry out packs of prune juice, pile drivers, baguettes, and Euro ear cheese. This is all just hospitality of course. Suggesting otherwise may be risky.
The announcer is in front of a picture of a very empty Trevi Fountain, due to a mixture of social distancing and some unforecast heavy rain. She is some kind of reality TV star, that no-one else has heard of. She is dressed in a tight silver frock with ridiculously large ruffles on the shoulders.
'It was very tight at the top in tonight's voting. Well done to all the performers in what was a very varied programme.
Here are the scores:
Wales 12 points
France 10 points
Antarctica 9 points
USA 8 points
Lichtenstein 7 points
Klingons 6 points'
The screen goes completely white. After about 15 seconds you realise it is a blizzard. A man is just about visible because he is wearing a white parka. The snowstorm clears a little and visible is the South Pole Research Station. He speaks:
"Good evening from the south pole, here are the votes of the Ant......"
The blizzard redoubles. The scene is white again. Static appears over the monitor screens and then the blue of no signal. Contact has been lost.
There is some muttering into earpieces. It appears that there was a technical hitch in calculating the Italian votes, and none of the ones for Ireland were calculated correctly.
There is some muttering into earpieces. It appears that there was a technical hitch in calculating the Italian votes, and none of the ones for Ireland were calculated correctly.
USA 8 points
Lichtenstein 7 points
Klingons 6 points'
The Italian jury would like to award all the above, and Ireland, 8 points.
Safely home in Vaduz, the Liechtensteiner jury mentally add 12 points to each of the running totals. They are all sporting teeshirts emblazoned with ‘We love Klingons (as long as they’re 500 billion light years away). ‘
This just in, courtesy of the Klingon Institute of Streaming Arts Sciences (known as KISS-ASS, it's like the BBC but more violent) : They have beamed all of the performances to the Klingon home world. People are in the streets, waiting and wondering. There is talk of a civil war if alpenhorns are not allowed in future Klingon opera performances. The Klingon High Council is split over the issue. Medics have attended, it appears there's no loss of life. The government and empire are watching the results closely. Everyone knows that life and death depend on the results of this first foray of Klingons into human arts amd music.
The broadcast continues....
The Klingon Empire has studied, discussed, and is voting now.
Lichtenstein 12 points
Antarctica 11
Ireland 10
Wales 9
France 8 points
USA 7 points
Italy 6 points
Practice: Well France will post tomorrow. I fear some of our newer countries have not quite understood the odd system of marking used by Eurovision.
In the 60’s one year resulted in a four way tie for first place. Since then 9 and 11 have been dropped in order to make the chances of it happening again less.
If the countries who voted following the Eurovision rules wish to change their vote so we all vote the same way that would be a nice gesture to our newer countries.
"Here are the votes from the Antarctica jury." comes a crackly voice, the screens meanwhile are full of static.
USA 3 points.
Ireland 4 points.
Italy 5 points.
France 6 points.
Lichten... (There is a storm of static covering the rest of the words)
Klingon Empire 8 points.
Wales 10 points
As we have no neighbouring countries, we have no-one to award 12 points to, as is traditional.
The Klingons are asking when they'll be announced as the winners. They're playing with knives and other weapons, throwing baguettes into the air and seeing how many times they can slice them before they hit the ground. With heavy Piledriver drinkimg (equal parts vodka and prune juice) there's a shortage of vodka, so they've started with gin and prune, and they've been adding wine and something flammable. Thus they're lighting drinks on fire and drinking them. Hopefully the fire stays in the glass and in the Klingons....
Bonjour mes amis. Merci pour les spetacle manifique. Voila les points de jury Francaise
Les Empire Des Clingon 12 points
Paye De Gal 10 points
Ireland 9
L'Italia 8 points
Antartica 7
USA 6 pints
Lichtenstine 5 points
Merci tour les monde
Thierry: and now we need to count the points. As is traditional we have an interval act. This year all competitors have been asked to make a small contribution. Take it away.
The lyrics are projected on a big screen. Progressively the members of the company join in and encourage the crowd. Then they shift to English and start singing a medley of what Earthlings think are English melodies and words, but of course in the original Klingon: "There was an Old Lady Who Swallowed a Fly", "Rule Britannia" (in the original it's Fight for Klingons), and "Jesus Loves Me" original title "Klingons are Great (we will show you how we fight).
The parts of the crowd who've drunk enough prune+alcohol take part like football fans. After the applause, a Klingon begins to sing again, in Klingon to the tune of "Shine Jesus Shine"**. Weapons are drawn, shouts of sacrilege are heard, and a fearful brawl ensues. It takes 40 minutes to clear the stage.
** It is disputed that the song Shine Jesus Shine - Klingon title "Jesus Shines Shoes" is Klingon in origin. The official government line attributes to Russia.
In an attempt to wear the Klingons down a bit, the Italian musicians start up a Tarantella at a speed that they would normally reach during the climax. They urge them to get up and dance, and up the tempo even further, so by the time they finish the notes are all one blur of sound.
Safely at the far end of a modem, Liechtenstein launches into a no -holds barred Songs on 45 reprise of Alpenhorn Enterprises Inc’s finest: Vaduz Calling, Enter the Battleground, My Lonely Heart is Yearning and various others, the lyrics (and in most cases the music) of which the singers have (mercifully) forgotten.
The collective sounds of Helena Belena, Hels Bels, Helmuth, Hyggemen and sundry Swiss Miss Belles of dubious vintage have to be heard, if not seen to be believed.
The Welsh contingent, being stuck behind the Severn Bridge, are unable to take part in the interval act in person. However, they have prepared a medley of traditional Welsh tunes, set to views of the stunning countryside.
While this is playing, ushers hand out to the audience freshly made Welsh cakes. These have been made to a special recipe sent by the Welsh team. Unfortunately, the caterers decided that they could be improved by the addition of the leftover prunes. This of course makes for predictable and hilarious results a little later on.
Comments
*of the 51 kinds of gagh, the most popular ones are:
Bithool gagh, which has feet
Filden gagh, which squirms
Meshta gagh, which jumps
Torgud gagh, which wiggles
Wistan gagh, which is packed in targ blood (a targ looks like a wild boor with rhino horns and very sharp fins down its back. Very aggressive.)
Chiara had been feeling quite relieved that the visuals didn't look too bad, and that the lo-tech approach to staging had paid off. At an explanation of the Klingon's question, she goes a delicate shade of green.
Having gulped enough times she says that she can't say exactly what type of pasta it was, but it would have been perfectly cooked. At this point Pietro interjects that it definitely would have been absolutely delicious.
Sponsors: Buy our stuff. Why not try our new prune pasta? A warrior would never go without it.
'Or Ayesha does a great Björk'.
'Or, y'know, both at once'.
'Sure. Why not?'
'Youse are having all the fun. Can I do Annie's Song?'
'How's about a bit of snare with that? See me, see Boléro, I'm all over it'.
The audience are treated to a musical tapestry of ostinato drum beat, warbling flute, crashing guitar cords and Ayesha gamely running up that hill, all accelerating to a finale reminiscent of grand pianos exploding in a cats' home during a thunderstorm.
So, without further ado, I present:
pssssttt...Ms Jedi, there are three of us.
Wait just a sec...I thought there was just one of you left. Sorry about that!!
Again, I present:
Victor, Hugo, and Laverne
As our three brave...umm...stony faced singers take the stage, it does not escape anyone's notice that they each have a bat'leth.
In lieu of a castle, the stage is covered top to bottom with knick knacks from all the souvenir kiosks in the Sanford airport. Thank goodness these gentlebeings foresaw the possibility of a problem.
Ohhh, the bells of Orlando...
(Bat'leths clash as Victor, Hugo and Laverne battle in time to the lyrics)
The Financiers finance, the Mousies and Ducks
Bathe in the gold and silver thrown by the crowd
While Orlando is turned upside-down.
(V,H &L lean on the Bat'leths as the Klingons threaten to wipe the stage clear. The scent? aroma? odor? of prune juice fills the air.)
(Drums appear, V,H &L whack the weapons on the drums...all at slightly differing tempi. It's not pretty.)
Beat the drums!!! Dance with the strumpets!
Our stony faces are horrible and frightening!
Foolish king, here's your crown
Glittered with fairy dust and signed by Michael M.
(The Klingons rush the stage and are totally shocked that they can't move or harm V,H and L.)
Seemingly, apparently but not really
Motion is different from others.
Ring that Bell! There's a beautiful Belle!
The Monster is not who you think it is!
(With a flourish, and flash of bat'leths, amazing fireworks are set off, and the whole stage is awash in a wonderful world of color!)
Then after muffled consultation backstage and much whispered hisses of “Oi! Liechtenstein, you’ve forgotten to unmute yourself!” Helena Belena herself appears on the Zoom Screen. She is looking distinctly pale and keeps looking back over one shoulder to check for any stray Klingons. She doesn’t really think that any managed to stow away on the journey home, but you can never be too careful. Her dress is covered in enough prune stains as it is. In the background, the audience can see equally dazed Swiss Miss Belles removing the last of the Eurocheese from their ear canals.
“Ahem! Vaduz callling. This is an announcement from the Liechtensteiner jury: After due consideration and consultation with the people of the principality, we have decided to invoke our famed neutrality and award every contestant the maximum 12 points, ourselves included. You will be astounded to learn that in a move unprecedented in the entire history of the contest, all of our citizens (all 37,000 of them), have voted for this course of action.
This unusual move has, of course, everything to do with our national principal of peace and love for all; not, as some might infer, from the fact that we’re scared shitless by the Klingons and their groupies and never wish to drink a drop of prune juice ever again; even if it’s served up with a bowl of All Bran topped with whipped cream.
Oh, and the USA is welcome to our castle.
Might we suggest that next time, (if there is a next time) we hold the contest aboard the ISS Space Station. Then at least the place will be Covid, (if not Klingon) free.”
After consultation, the Klingons decide to open up the bar and pay for everything. Prune juice, pile drivers and Euro earcheese for everyone! Are there no more baguettes? This could lead to conflict!
'No idea. But I heard someone say there was a free bar'.
'What are we standing here for?'
No, no, not at all! You’re welcome to keep the alpenhorns. Help yourself! It’s not that we don’t like you, but Liechtenstein is so very small and all the Klingon enthusiasm might be rather overwhelming. We treasure the peace and tranquility of the alpine vibe. Banging and crashing isn’t really our thing.
Right please start voting, except for Lichtenstein. Remember the Eurovision voting system. You
Can award points 1-8 then 10 and 12. OK Ship of Fools get voting
This is how you vote.
The announcer is in front of a picture of a very empty Trevi Fountain, due to a mixture of social distancing and some unforecast heavy rain. She is some kind of reality TV star, that no-one else has heard of. She is dressed in a tight silver frock with ridiculously large ruffles on the shoulders.
'It was very tight at the top in tonight's voting. Well done to all the performers in what was a very varied programme.
Here are the scores:
Wales 12 points
France 10 points
Antarctica 9 points
USA 8 points
Lichtenstein 7 points
Klingons 6 points'
'All the pizzas I've bought. No gratitude either'.
The screen goes completely white. After about 15 seconds you realise it is a blizzard. A man is just about visible because he is wearing a white parka. The snowstorm clears a little and visible is the South Pole Research Station. He speaks:
"Good evening from the south pole, here are the votes of the Ant......"
The blizzard redoubles. The scene is white again. Static appears over the monitor screens and then the blue of no signal. Contact has been lost.
The Italian jury would like to award all the above, and Ireland, 8 points.
Safely home in Vaduz, the Liechtensteiner jury mentally add 12 points to each of the running totals. They are all sporting teeshirts emblazoned with ‘We love Klingons (as long as they’re 500 billion light years away). ‘
'And it tastes like one of them puddings you got with school diners'.
'Flies' Graveyard?'
'No, the other one - Eyeballs in Snot'.
This just in, courtesy of the Klingon Institute of Streaming Arts Sciences (known as KISS-ASS, it's like the BBC but more violent) : They have beamed all of the performances to the Klingon home world. People are in the streets, waiting and wondering. There is talk of a civil war if alpenhorns are not allowed in future Klingon opera performances. The Klingon High Council is split over the issue. Medics have attended, it appears there's no loss of life. The government and empire are watching the results closely. Everyone knows that life and death depend on the results of this first foray of Klingons into human arts amd music.
The broadcast continues....
The Klingon Empire has studied, discussed, and is voting now.
Lichtenstein 12 points
Antarctica 11
Ireland 10
Wales 9
France 8 points
USA 7 points
Italy 6 points
K'plah!
Klingon Empire 12
Wales 11
Antarctica 10
Lichtenstein 9
Ireland 8
France 7
Italy 6
*Congratulations on your well fought opera.
**Which for some reason brings Denmark into the picture.
In the 60’s one year resulted in a four way tie for first place. Since then 9 and 11 have been dropped in order to make the chances of it happening again less.
If the countries who voted following the Eurovision rules wish to change their vote so we all vote the same way that would be a nice gesture to our newer countries.
'Wales is the next thing to Ireland. Fishguard to Rosslare'.
'France were always on our side'.
'And a fat lot of use they were in '98'.
'Did you know, 13 American Presidents were from Ulster?'
'You could kind of get into that Klingon stuff'.
'We're supposed to vote on the songs'.
'The songs? Tough call'.
USA 3 points.
Ireland 4 points.
Italy 5 points.
France 6 points.
Lichten... (There is a storm of static covering the rest of the words)
Klingon Empire 8 points.
Wales 10 points
As we have no neighbouring countries, we have no-one to award 12 points to, as is traditional.
'What bit of paper?'
'With the sums on it.'
'Aperol Spritz, 5 Euro - I mean points'.
'That's the drinks menu. The other side'.
'Oh right. Here are the votes from Ireland. Even though, obviously, we were the best. But we're not allowed to say that. Anyway.
France 12
Antartica 10
Lichtenstein 9
Wales 8
Klingons 6
Italy 5
USA 3
There wasn't a country called Margarita, was there?'
Ireland 12 points
France 10 points
Italy 8 points
Klingon Empire 7 points
USA 6 points
Antarctica 5 points
Lichtenstein 4 points
Now I'm off to open the Merlyn Welsh liquer and marinate some of those prunes in it.
Les Empire Des Clingon 12 points
Paye De Gal 10 points
Ireland 9
L'Italia 8 points
Antartica 7
USA 6 pints
Lichtenstine 5 points
Merci tour les monde
The parts of the crowd who've drunk enough prune+alcohol take part like football fans. After the applause, a Klingon begins to sing again, in Klingon to the tune of "Shine Jesus Shine"**. Weapons are drawn, shouts of sacrilege are heard, and a fearful brawl ensues. It takes 40 minutes to clear the stage.
** It is disputed that the song Shine Jesus Shine - Klingon title "Jesus Shines Shoes" is Klingon in origin. The official government line attributes to Russia.
The collective sounds of Helena Belena, Hels Bels, Helmuth, Hyggemen and sundry Swiss Miss Belles of dubious vintage have to be heard, if not seen to be believed.
You couldn’t make it up, could you?!
While this is playing, ushers hand out to the audience freshly made Welsh cakes. These have been made to a special recipe sent by the Welsh team. Unfortunately, the caterers decided that they could be improved by the addition of the leftover prunes. This of course makes for predictable and hilarious results a little later on.
And as the strains of the prune tune fade away...