This is the most complex filk I’ve composed: an allegorical account of the 48th IVCF in Perth, 1997. The characters are based partly on Jeff Wayne’s War of the Worlds, and partly on the PIV committee. It was inspired by the remarkable efficiency of the PIV committee, especially their convenor, Sarah “Fascist” Penn. It’s a pity they were so efficient in organising rehearsals that we never saw much of Perth itself, but you get that.
From the book by H. G. Batts
Dramatised by Orson Battes
Dramatis Personae, with Props
The Narrator
The Martian Transport & Billetting Officer: (blonde mop of hair, sexually explicit t-shirt)
The Secretary (lycra bike-shorts, trendy beard)
The Camp Officer
The Treasurer: (box of beer)
The Van Driver: (disreputable hat, steering wheel)
The Martian Queen: (coffee plunger – you’ll see why soon enough…)
A Radio Announcer
An Astronaut
Chorus of Choristers, Martians, and other strange creatures
Prologue
| Narrator |
No one would have believed, in the last years of the twentieth century, that choral affairs were being watched from the rainless town of Perth. No one even considered that civilisation could exist, more than 3000 miles from Lygon Street. And yet, far across the gulf of sand, minds immeasurably more organised than ours watched Choral Chat with devious eyes. And slowly, carefully, they drew their plans against us… |
| Keyboard |
Dum-dum-dah fanfare, fade into theme |
| Chorus |
The chances of choristers coming to Perth
Are a million to one, they said.
The chances of choristers coming to Perth
Are a million to one… Fade |
| Narrator |
Foetus the Conductor assured me there was no cause for alarm. He was convinced there could be no life in that remote, forbidding city… |
| Chorus |
The chances of choristers coming to Perth
Are a million to one, they said.
The chances of choristers coming to Perth
Are a million to one, but still we come… |
The Coming Of The Choristers
| Narrator |
It seems incredible to me know that that month began like any other… I heard the sopranos practising, the noise softened almost to melody by the distance… |
| Chorus |
Foreboding beat – dum-dum-dum-dum-da-dum, da-dum-dum-dum, da-dum… |
| Narrator |
The cylinder landed in the common. I heard it unscrewing… |
| Chorus |
Sound of unscrewing lid |
| Narrator |
slowly, slowly, until… the lid… fell off! |
| Narrator |
A huge bulk, larger than a house. A wide, jelly-lipped mouth quivered and slobbered. An insane shock of yellow hair, a risque t-shirt… It lifted its hideous mass out of the cylinder and in a terrible voice, spoke! |
| Martian T&B Officer |
Hi, welcome to Perth, I’ve got you billetted in a disused toilet in Kalgoorlie, I hope that’s OK. |
| Narrator |
The cylinder was covered in some weird hieroglyphics: U… W… A… What could it mean? |
| Chorus |
Sings the martian cry: OOOOOO-WAAAAAH… |
Halliday Common and Parson Economou
| Narrator |
I came upon a bearded, thirty-something secretary and a blonde camp officer… |
| Secretary |
Ranting biblically
The easterners are unfit! They must be exercised! And I have been chosen to do it! I’ve seen the sign! We shall hold all rehearsals on the beach! In lycra! We’ll run up and down on the sand between movements! Bruckner with star jumps!!! |
| Camp Officer |
Sings:
No Econovan!
Oh, no Econovan, no!
Spoken:
They’re not fat! They’re cuddly! |
| Camp Officer & Chorus |
No, Econovan!
Oh, no Econovan, no!
There must be more to camp
There has to be a way
That we can survive the camp
And live to Rottofest! |
The Artillery-Treasurer and the Billing Machine
| Treasurer |
Halt! Who goes there? Have you paid yet? |
| Narrator |
In character:
Great Scott! The treasurer! |
| Treasurer |
The narrator! I thought you’d surely drowned! |
| Narrator |
I thought you’d surely got locked in the coolroom! |
| Treasurer |
No! (Dramatically) I have a plan!
Sings:
Take a look around you
At the Fests you’ve come to know
Does it ever seem much more
Than a huge financial blow?
Maybe from the madness
Something profitable will grow
In a brave IV
Unlike the ones in the past
We’ll make… we’ll make a profit at last! |
Thunder Van
| Keyboard |
Thundervan fanfare |
| Narrator |
From the desert road came the coughing of an ancient beast: the grey, ironclad Thunder Van! |
| Chorus |
There were cars and trucks discarded
On the road from east to west
But the heat was disregarded
By the man who drove the best
Sensing Perth was truly nearing,
Knowing Bazza is The Man,
People started cheering:
Come on Thunder Van! |
Brave New IV & Dead Choristers
| Narrator |
Our only chance lay in the humblest of weapons, the simple common Lurgi… But this wasn’t Canberra, so that’s that plan buggered. |
| Chorus |
Ooo-waaah cry. Foreboding beat. |
| Narrator |
I swore I would discover their secret. How had they run an IV efficiently,on-time and to budget? The answer must lie in the edifice on the hill. Madly, impetuously, I ran toward it.
There, amid the water bottles she stood, the Queen Martian of Perth IV! |
Queen Martian stands with her back to the audience. As Narrator speaks the following sentence, she turns slowly to reveal a coffee plunger attached to her forehead in the manner of an evil and yet somehow forbiddingly sexy Dalek.
| Narrator |
Now I understood how they did it! |
| Queen Martian |
In grating, Dalek voice:
Lateness is the enemy of the committee! It must be coordinated! Coordinate! Coordinate!
Chorus joins in ad lib |
Epilogue
| Radio Announcer |
Radio static
We’re just getting the first signals from the space probe, now landing on the planet Melbourne… |
| Astronaut |
Amazing! It’s amazing! It’s so wet! It’s littered with thousands of different restaurants and caf– (radio static; silence) |
| Keyboard |
Eerie music theme |
| Radio Announcer |
Hello? Space probe? Come in, space probe… Tracking station 42, Canberra! Come in, Canberra! What’s happening? There’s nothing on the line but a strange, rhythmic noise. What could it mean? Listen… |
| Chorus |
The famous Foetus is a wanker clap, in unison. |
Curtain