‘Aaah I see,’ said pERI-hEAD doubtfully. ‘But I thought the only point was that we in heaven have to maintain our existence by getting the punters on Earth to believe?’
Lord Jaffa sighed again; it was fast becoming one of those days where there seemed more chance of educating a jar of pickled lungs recently deceased from tobacco induced cancer than making piteous headway with a fading god. ‘THE POINT IS,’ he explained irritably, ‘HUMANS HAVE BECOME SPECIALISTS. IT’S INDIVIDUALS THAT BRING STABILITY TO THE HERD AND THE LARGE MAJORITY OF THE HUMAN HERD NEVER QUESTION THEMSELVES AS A COMPLETE ORGANISM. ONE HEARS IT ALL THE TIME, THEY SPEND HOURS BLEATING ON ABOUT ONE CLUB OR ANOTHER. IT’S WHY THEY’LL ALWAYS REMAIN IN THE SAFETY OF THE MIDDLE OF THE HERD, ANCHORED TO LITIGIOUS BUNKUM BY BLAMING ANY SCAPEGOATS THEY CAN FOR THEIR OWN LOATHSOME SOCIAL CRISIS. STILL,’ he added more cheerfully, ‘AS YOU SO READILY POINTED OUT, IT’LL KEEP THEM BELIEVING IN US.’
‘Well, I think that’s over simplifying the human condition,’ said pERI-hEAD, casting an eye upon the succulent wench’s naked buttocks as they rocked upon the melon to the rhythm of her head. ‘After all, humans have got to the moon,’ he grinned beakily.
‘PRECISELY,’ sang Lord Jaffa. ‘COLLECTIVELY THEY’VE GOT TO THE MOON, BUT NONE OF THEM REALISE THAT IT’S POSSIBLE TO ACCOMPLISH THE SAME VOYAGE WITH AN INDIVIDUAL’S WILL - AND A ROCKET UP THE RECTUM FROM REAL POWER. WHAT DO WE THINK TRANS-POPPING IS, MY COMPLACENT CO-EXISTER?’
‘I must confess, I haven’t a clue,’ shrugged pERI-hEAD. ‘Chariots were as far as I got I’m afraid,’ he said in all honestly. ‘But wouldn’t a trip into individualism require a little too much info in such a tiny human mind. I suggest you relax my Lord,’ he advised. ‘Enjoy the moment. This human girl will never pose any real threat?’