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A not so long time ago, in a galaxy quite, quite near… |
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Episode 2009: Your Universe Needs You |
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It is a dark time for the galaxy. The greedy Count Svant Stockslius is appointed Chancellor of the corrupt Evil Balladeers’ Union.
The Union has suppressed peace and order throughout West and East by infiltrating the noble Knights of the JooRee. Now the Union strives to impose their biased TELLYVOTAs on the remaining free planets.
Count Svant Stockslius’s personal mission is to harness the Dark Side of the Force in a bid to retrieve his two mysteriously Missing E’s. To that end, the Count has dispatched his evil adjutant, Darth Vader, to the red (and slightly square) planet of Moss-Ko...
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On arriving at Moss-Ko, Vader declares:
"I sense something, a presence I haven’t felt since…" |
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His rebellious lieutenant, Sybok,
seizes on Vader’s momentary weakness
and uses the illegal JooRee mind trick
Antepenultimate Lethargic Weariness
to overcome his master:
"Your pain runs deep"
"What do you know of my pain?"
"Let us explore it... together. Each man hides a secret pain.
It must be exposed and reckoned with. It must be dragged from the darkness
and forced into the light. Share your pain.
Share your pain with me... and gain strength from the sharing." |
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An image of Vader’s secret pain enters his mind…a pain that had turned him to the path of the Dark Side |
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During rehearsal fortnight |
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Stage begins in darkness, slowly the lights rise |
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Entering from Left: The Spanish Beauties |
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Entering from Right: The Estonian Lovelies |
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Lead divas glower at one another
Spotlights turn on to reveal a microphone at Centre Stage
Both Spanish and Estonian fillies rush toward it
Soraya reaches the stand first and throws an evil smile toward
Sandra’s team, still struggling with their violin and double bass cases |
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Let’s not admire Eesti Laul’s tune’s one big bore |
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No ‘randy dad’ can…prevent you beginning to snore |
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More important is that which I sing, because it will win |
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Come on! They’ll text me, and phone a plenty |
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| Fan polls say that all the juries love me |
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| Come on, they’ll hate thee, worst in the semis |
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You’ll only get votes from Alavere! |
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Come hark at me, you wait and see: |
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The Pope will vote for me |
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(Ms. Nurmsalu viciously strums her violin and wrenches the microphone away from Soraya) |
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Hold on! You’re not a winner |
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Forget loony Soraya’s song |
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All fair juries loath cocky mingers |
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Sandra will show her who’s wrong |
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Yes, I sing |
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The classiest fun ballad ever |
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I will win |
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My symphony: really it’s clever |
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They will hate |
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The bitterness of Cáceres riffraff |
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Who sings like |
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An audibly retarded chiffchaff |
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Don’t be so crass, you’re one deluded smug lass |
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| Fiddle in hand, you will distress Euroland |
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No impartial judge queries, oh yes, that your song’s a mess |
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Take not the piss please! But slap me silly… |
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If the scoreboard shows you more than mid teens |
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Can someone wake me? Her song sedates me |
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Hint: all fiddles drone on tediously |
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My apogee, no doubt you’ll see |
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The best song’s sung by me |
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Watching her ‘dancing’ and her steps |
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Will leave you needing Vermouth |
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Giving her your vote is for schleps |
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Hear me, all! I speak the truth |
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Yes she blurts |
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The trashiest song since forever |
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Hear my plea: |
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Don’t download it to iPods ever |
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My song has |
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The best rhythms that certainly will win |
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You just wait |
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We all will meet next year in Tallinn |
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About two weeks later... |
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Ah... |
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(A certain Spaniard is slapped silly, as requested) |
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Oh no, my God! Who voted for her? Sozzled fools??? |
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She plied them with booze! |
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Should I have flashed them my boobs? |
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My dear, gazongas can’t fix your loathsome song! |
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(Urban Symphony arrogantly show off their musical prowess) |
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They love me |
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Just slightly less than tales of fairies |
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They hate you |
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Your whole routine simply was scary-- |
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(Our divas and their entourages spot something strange in the sky) |
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To prevent an imminent galactic civil war,
the U.S.S. Enterprise, sworn enemy of the Union,
rushes to Moss-Ko and beams down a compromise diva |
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Is it a Taelon? A Cylon? A Vogon? |
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Centre Stage:
A Raxacoricofallapatorian seated at a piano
and
a genetic chimera of Isis Gee and Alexandra Burke
appear |
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I’ve beamed down, down to bore
Aural pain’s my lord’s chore
He gave me life...his singing bint
Did I say that my teeth, they glint?!
It’s my time, it’s my time--- |
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Blasting their usurpers into a parallel universe, Soraya and Sandra join together and sing |
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Shut up Jade! |
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