What the Prodigal Son did next

A sequel to the earlier parable.

1. So the prodigal son, Harry, with the prodigal daughter-in-law, the sorceress Meg-han le Fay, parted from his father a second time, and went into the wilderness to seek an even bigger fortune than he had already.

2. "Leave us alone!" cried the happy couple. "We have told you many times, by means of interviews, epistles, paintings, interpretative dance, commemorative mugs, even by means of the Metropolitan Oprah, that we are humble strolling players who wish to preserve a dignified silence."

Harry painteth a self-portrait in the style of Van Gogh.

3. But it was not to be. "I am going spare," said Harry, "and the only way to be ignored will be to write the best-selling story of my life, also to be called 'Spare'."

4. Meanwhile, the grandmother of the prodigal son, who happened to be the Queen, died at a great age, and his father became King.

5. This Queen had responded to the claims of Meg-han Le Fay by saying "Recollections may vary", which is how queens say "Thou art a silly cow and everything thou sayest is as the droppings of the bulls of Bashan."

6. But now that the Queen was dead, the prodigal couple decided to invent more stories about life at the royal palace.

7. "For I am black but comely," said Meg-han Le Fay, "and thus I am the victim of racial attacks by the late Queen and her corgis of war."

8. Which was not true, for the people had greeted her with "Who is this that appears like the dawn, fair as the moon, bright as the sun, majestic as the stars in procession?"

"Boris! Liz! Rishi! Keir! Attack!"

9.But Harry was also much grieved. "Once when I was three years old, my brother William called me a 'pest', and it hath traumatized me all my life. What can I do?"

10. And Meg-han le Fay replied, "Let us arise and go unto the men who flick the nets, and ask them to make a powerful twenty-six-part entertainment about us.

11. Thus can we remain private, as we have always wanted; we can be revenged on the wickedness of William; and, best of all, we can be rewarded with much gold."

12. And it was so.

The people are entertained by the story of the prodigal couple.

Bad Hymns 24

The Judges of the Eccles Bad Hymn Award are delighted to welcome "R.H.", the 18th-century author of "Jesus Christ the Apple Tree". So, R.H., you published this hymn in London's Spiritual Magazine, although only under your initials?

Apple trees have long been a source of inspiration.

RH: Yes, I felt that anonymity was safest here, in case people started mocking my song. It was later published in Joshua Smith's hymnal.

E: Well, I'm about 200 years late, but I got to it in the end. I don't suppose that R.H. stands for Rolf Harris? The song has that sort of ring to it: perhaps an accompaniment with a didgeridoo or a wobble board would make it seem less silly?

These didgeridoo virtuosi also used the Apple label.

RH: No, not Rolf Harris.

E: Well, onto the song:

The trees of nature fruitless be
Compared with Christ the apple tree.

Calling Christ an apple tree isn't very Biblical, is it?

RH: Well, there are apple trees in the Song of Songs (Song of Solomon), Eccles.

E: A bit far-fetched, Rolf. Still, resting under the tree, and eating its fruit, do tie in well with general Christian doctrine, IF you interpret Christ as an apple tree.

RH: I wrote another verse, all about drinking cider and falling over under the apple tree, but the Spiritual Magazine cut it out.

There's too much cider in my cup,
I need someone to pick me up.
Since I can't stand right now, Lord, see
Me doze beneath the apple tree.

Ooh, arr, we appreciates the fruit of an apple tree.

E: That was probably best. Moreover, apples have cosmetic uses, so I've written an extra verse for you:

My skin is wrinkled, full of spots,
But luckily I now get lots
Of vitamins, A, B and C,
In lotion from the apple tree.

Er, I left out Christ, as I am still not sure that He really has much to do with this hymn.

RH: Thanks, Eccles. Shall we contact the Spiritual Magazine? They may like to publish a new edition of my words.

E: Didn't it merge with the Tablet? Ah no, it's probably turned into this:

Spiritual journalism.

RH: Well, thank you very much, Eccles.

E: My pleasure, Rolf.

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Previous entries for the Eccles Bad Hymn Award:

Lord of the Dance.    Shine, Jesus, shine.    Enemy of apathy.    Walk in the Light.
Kum Ba Yah.    Follow me.    God's Spirit is in my heart.    Imagine.    Alleluia Ch-ch.
It ain't necessarily so.    I, the Lord of sea and sky.    Colours of day.    The red flag.
Go, the Mass is ended.    I watch the sunrise.    Bind us together, Lord.    Our god reigns.
My way.    Ding-Dong! The witch is dead.    If I were a butterfly.
Journeys ended, journeys begun.    The Galilee song.    The perfect face.

Bosco finds St Peter

Well dat was a disasster, wasnt it, Bosco, my dere bruvver. We lunched a raid on de herretics at de Calvados Chappel, dem wot scribled "Bosco, you aint saved" on de wall of the dining room. For Jessus had spoke to us and said "Beet em up good and propper, you servvants of de Lord".

De plan was to brake into de Calvados Chapule and stick supergleu on de foot of de iddle of St Peter dat dey got (dey calls him St Dracula, but we knows it is reely St Peter), so dat de first person to kiss de foot (probabbly Pastor Nosferatu) would be stuck to it. Den we could shout "You aint saved, is you, you loser?"

Here is de statue of St Peter.

Well we went to de Calvados service, which I has to say is very similar to what Bosco and me does in de Calumny Chappel. Dey had a momment of sillent prayer when Pastor Nosferatu said "Shut up my brethren" and de congreggation said "We shuts up for de Lord". Bosco aint very good at being sillent and I heard him prayin "Oh God, Eccles is such a pane, make him stop writtin dat ghastlly blogg before he gets us both arested. PS Dont forget I am one of de saved ones, so dis is a proirity prayer."

Den Pastor Nosferatu stood up and said, "We got visitors tonihgt, and we invites em to be de first to kiss de stateu of St Dracula". Bosco wasnt paying attention and frew force of habbit he rushed up and kissed de foot of St Peter/Dracula. De big toe broke off and got stuck to his nose wiv supergleu, makin it twice as big as ussual. De Calvados Chapule folk cried out "Dat's a sign of special blessin from de Lord. Is it not written in de Song of Solomon 'Thy nose is as de tower of Lebbanon which looketh toward Dammascus'?" (Yes, I fink it is, but dats a song dat we don't sing very often in de Calumny Chappel.)

Anyway, we is now makin our peace wiv de Calvados Chapule, dey aint saved as much as we is, but dey aint bad chaps reely, not like dem Cathlics, who is de reel ennemy. Dey promissed not to write "Bosco, you aint saved" on any more walls, as a man wiv a big hooter is surely marked out for Salivation.

Here is Bosco wiv his new nose, but he aint very happy wiv it, he says it tickles.