Bard Billot on the bumbling blue leader
The Weakest Link
It had been another gruelling day
Hurtling across the frozen wasteland.
The race to the Pole was on!
Baron Luxon dreamed of nothing
But being the First to plant his flag,
A dream he had held since being a very small boy.
Far away to the west, level with the Baron’s party,
A small light glowed at the encampment of his Rival
The intrepid young explorer Jorgen Chipmundsen.
The Baron frowned and pocketed his binoculars
And strode into the tent
Where his gaunt and drawn team huddled.
“I can’t understand it,” said the Baron.
“We have a new sled.
We have corporate sponsorship.
We have a full team of the better class of plucky colonial settler.
Chipmundsen is down to three lame huskies!
The rest have been claimed by frostbite from media exposure.
Yet – we are still not in the lead! What is holding us back?”
There was a long silence in the tent
Broken only by the coughing
Of the Baron’s loyal Lieutenant, Nick Willis.
“Alright,” said the Baron. “I’m going to the bathroom –
And I expect some answers when I get back!”
The Baron found a large boulder.
“I must be missing something obvious,” he muttered to himself.
“It’s like there is a dead weight slowing us down.”
The Baron zipped up and returned to his camp.
But there was an eerie silence.
The fire was out.
The tent flaps stirred in the icy wind.
Plates lay scattered around with half eaten meals
As if everyone had departed in sudden great haste.
His expeditionary team had vanished.
The Baron stood alone as the Polar Night descended.
Then, coming from a very great distance up ahead,
Baron Luxon heard the sound of huskies barking,
And the faint voice of Lieutenant Nick Willis crying
“Faster, faster, you beasts! Onward – to the Pole!”
Victor Billot has previously felt moved to write Odes for Tory Whanau, Chris Hipkins, Michael Wood, and Wayne Brown.
