The Bard on the Bishop
The Return of the Bling
Lo, it was dark times in the Queendom. The Red Empress had worked her woke magick and unleashed an army of the night: her vile necromancy had summoned a legion of zombies through cost of undead payments. In that year, many strange and wondrous wizards and elves strode the Roads of National Significance. Wizard Leo of Molloy, who poked himself in the eye with his magic wand; Wizard/Baron/Air Commodore Luxon, who was digging a giant hole all the way to the Promised Land; and Wizard of Trees and Lichens, The Shawrax, who was running across forest glades pursued by a buzzing swarm of green unicorn hornets. But none of these pretenders could summon the unworldly powers of the Mighty One, Brian. He was known by many names in the lands: Original Gangsta, Elvis Tokoroa, The Profit. His trials had been many. There was the trial from the Auckland domain, then there was the trial from the motorway protest, and lo, the trial for careless driving of a late model SUV chariot with heated seats; for it is written in The Book, the Sacred Butt must be kept cozy during the End Times. But Yahweh Brian heeded not the laws of Rome, for verily, he is a law unto himself. So Brian clambered to the top of the Mount and giveth a sermon to his flock. Lo, he saith: the Great Satan will gag you with freedom muzzles. His flock groaned in horror. Lo, he saith: the Great Satan will provide free public healthcare. His flock gnashed and wailed in despair. Lo, he saith, the Great Satan will disconnecteth my mobile EFTPOS terminals. His flock trembled in silence at this doom. But just as they prepared to marcheth on the bazaars and tents of Newmarket, a great tramping of feet was heard. Over the horizon came a mighty host from all corners of the Queendom. There were pink and green non-binary Unicorns; there were blue Smurfs from the industrial dairy wastelands; there were the merchants of Newmarket. Lo, saith Yahweh Brian in surprise. I have united the warring tribes of Judah: surely this is a sign that I am the Official Wi Fi Hotspot of the Almighty. But the host grew closer and they could be heard chanting a most curious war cry: FARC OFF BRIAN! FARC OFF BRIAN! And they carried cow manure in great buckets; and grooved to disco music as they came; and so it was that Yahweh Brian had a sudden revelation; and rode off into the sunset on his gold plated Harley in great haste.
Victor Billot has previously felt moved to compose Odes for such luminaries as the Prime Minister, Louise Wallace, Mike Hosking, Clarke Gayford, Brian Tamaki, and Garrick Tremain.
