"I can do that," relied the First Librarian, "for I have the Mystical View Screen, which can be used to summon the Wise Woman"
"Oh never mind your mysical thingy," interrupted MB, "I will call her." So saying, she started pressing buttons on her telephone.
"The phone number you have called is imaginary. Please rotate your phone 90 degrees and try again", intoned a disembodied Telstra voice on the other end of the line.
"Damn," said MB, "must have dialled the wrong number. I'll try sending her a text." She continued to press buttons, in a hasty manner.
"In the meantime," said Verdunn, "We must bury the poor Ambassador, for he is beyond the help even of the Wise Woman."
"Indeed we must," said Alan. "Being so old, I have much experience burying people (although not in a literal sense), and being such a sad git, I am very good at mournful obituaries. I shall conduct the service, if someone else will dig the hole - such physical activity is beyond one of my years."
"Very well," replied Verdunn, clapping his hands, at which the First and Third Librarians upped shovels and began digging, while singing a mournful funeral dirge ("Trout, trout, let it all out... these are the things we can do without..."). As they were digging the grave, and Alan was making notes so he didn't forget anything pertinent about the depressed Frenchman, the beautiful Princess Miranda was discussing with Verdunn how she would get her kingdom back from the clutches of her evil stepmother. Together they formulated a cunning plan, by which the Princess would take control of the Army of Ninja Meerkats and use them to overthrow the machinations of her Evil Step-mother. Apparently the trainer of the Meerkats, an invertebrate by the name of Sean, had a talisman by which the meerkats were controlled. All they had to do was take this, and the Meerkats would follow the lovely blonde Princess into the very gates of hell. With that settled, the funeral began.
"Although I had not known the Ambassador very long,' intoned Alan, the sad old git, "I feel that we had a certain sadness in common. People like us feel more profoundly and are more in touch with our emotions and the world around us than are happy people who deal with life�s adversities without taking it out on others. The poor Ambassador never got over his ex-girlfriend dumping him, and although that is not my Landmark issue, I can certainly sympathise, as being a sad old git I have met many a wicked woman in my younger years. You'd be surprised how many denizens of Satan hang out in Adelaide. Oh well, you might not be since it is clearly the City of the Damned. Anyway, the point is, the Ambassador was a sad, oldish git of a man, and therefore I am well qualified to eulogise him. I am too tired and old to go on. Plus, being a git I don't really care about anyone else so I can't be bothered talking any more about the depressed Frenchman. Let's talk about me."
Luckily at this juncture, Alan was interrupted by the entry of a woman in red boots, floating inside a large-ish bubble. She drifted down to land and popped the bubble with her attractive diamond brooch.
"Where did you get that jewel?" asked the First Librarian
"Oh, from an old dead person," replied the woman in red boots.
"Greetings, Wise Woman," said Verdunn, bowing deeply to her, "It has been far too long."
"Indeed it has," replied the Wise Woman, "Now, I know why you have summoned me, but why don't you recap for the sake of narrative completeness?"
"Indeed, " said Verdunn, "I shall explain. We summoned you, not only because of your Great Wisdom, but also because you are a witty conversationalist and wear red boots, and thus may make an interesting addition when we finally get to go down the pub at the conclusion of tonight's events. While you are here, we need you to help rescue the Second Librarian from the scourge of Weremeerkatdom, reveal Bob the Cow's destiny, overthrow the Princess's Evil Stepmother, possibly by finding the talisman by which the Ninja Meerkats are controlled, and help us decide which pub we're going to head off to."
"Also," added Rob, "I'm looking for an agent to help launch my international modelling career. Can you help me?"
"Possibly," replied the Wise Woman, looking down at her funky red boots, "All shall be revealed!"
"Isn't that the second time someone has said that in the last couple of chapters?" asked MB
"Possibly," repeated the Wise Woman, adding "I may have been quoting Slartibartfast." Suddenly she lept back, startled, and collided with Alan.
"Stop that!" he warned, "I am a sad old git and can have no truck with young and possibly attractive women."
"I wasn't colliding with you deliberately," replied the Wise Woman, "Although you are not that old, and might grow less sad and git-like if we were to have some fun. Look over there!" She pointed, dramatically, to a blue glowing figure standing behind the Heroes.
"Arrgh!" screamed the Princess Miranda girlishly, "It's the ghost of the Ambassador!" The Ambassador clanked his chains, and moaned softly.
"I come in peace," he said, "only to tell you that the key to controlling the Meerkats is in my rucksack. It is the mystical bagette which I carried everywhere with me when I was alive. Now that I am dead, I bequeath it to you, Princess Miranda, for the force is strong with you."
"Oh, er, thanks," said the Princess, "I will take the bagette and use it to overthrow my Wicked Step-mother, thus regaining my rightful place as ruler of my Kingdom. Queendom. Whatever it is."
"Before you go, I have here one final frog for you to kiss," said the Wise Woman, drawing a small green frog from within her attractive black wrap-around top. "This one is guaranteed to turn into at handsome European nobleman (one frog in every three wins. A one in three chance does not mean you are a guaranteed winner. For full terms and conditions, log onto our website)"
"Oh boy, a handsome European Nobleman," gushed the Princess, enthusiastically snogging the frog, which forthwith turned into an attractive man, similar in looks to Prince Frederick. He and Princess Miranda momentarily continued to pash, then grabbed the bagette, and ran off with a cheery "see you later, we'll meet you at the Smelliphant and Cheesebarrow when we've overthrown the Wicked Step-mother, taken back our Queendom, and got married by Elvis in Las Vegas."
"Ok, what's next?" asked the Wise Woman. She looked around. "You!" she said, pointing a well-manicured finger at Bob the Cow, "You must turn some of your mystical cow-juice into butter and spread it onto the Second Librarian with your Butterknife of Destiny. This will cure him of both the werecurse and his metrosexuality."
"Wow," said Bob the Cow, "so this is my much-vaunted destiny - to spread a metrosexual librarian with my own butter. This ending sucks."
"Sorry," replied the Wise Woman, "I don't make the suggestions. Make with the churning and the spreading." With some contortions, Bob the Cow managed to produce some butter, and spread it, using what he previously thought was his Sword of Destiny but had turned out to be naught but a butter-knife, onto the prostrate form of the Second Librarian, who immediately sat bolt upright.
"Nevermore will I work in the public library system!" he vowed, "for now I am on the side of good and will work for a big four firm as a Knowledge Manager. Truly I have seen the light and have been saved by this kindly cow!"
"Now," said the Wise Woman finally, "We must all get naked in order to fulfill the demand for gratuitous nudity in the final chapter, and then we shall away to our favourite watering hole, the Smelliphant and Cheesebarrow, for a refreshing half of bitter."
And with that, our Heroes all stripped off, including the Ghost of the Blue Frenchman (or was that the Blue Ghost of the Frenchman?), and, naughty bits blowing in the breeze, headed for the local pub, where they were joined by Miranda and her handsome Prince, and they all got slightly pissy.
There endeth the lesson. Tune in soon for The Dark Tragedy Of The Doll With Ruth's Hair