You have chosen SALVATION. But did you make the correct choice?
As the string quartet launch into a classical version of Frankie Goes to Hollywood's classic 'Two Tribes' the French midget crawls up onto the scaffold using just his tongue. O' Halloran wonders why he didn't just kill the bastard when he had the chance back at Doris' house rather than releasing him.
That was a bit stupid, wasn't it? Anyhow…
"So, O' 'Alloran, we meet again", he smirks.
"Fuck you, midget".
"Ahhh, yooo won't be so cocky when I part your head from your tubby body".
"I aint tubby!"
"Oh, yooo most certainly are! Yooo have big fat man boobs and your belly is as lardy as a beached walrus!"
"At least I have a belly", O' Halloran snaps back immediately.
"Touche, O' 'Alloran. But now yooo must dieeeeee!"
The French midget signals to the burly guards (using his tongue - how else?) to lay him down upon the wooden plank. They then affix the neck restraint around his head.
O' Halloran is face down and can now see quite clearly the remote control device which controls the time machine. It's just out of reach. He couldn't reach it even with his nose and with his hands binded he struggles to think of how else to press that damn button and end this torment.
"Don't I get a last request?", O' Halloran asks.
The French midget acts in accordance with typical French charity and grace:
But a voice calls out in the crowd. A voice of reason and dignity. It's gorgeous, bosom-tastic Doris.
"Give him his last request, you fucking prick!", she shouts as she waves an angry fist.
The crowd around her cheer, for they enjoy seeing a hot, busty maiden jiggling and wiggling.
The French midget does an about turn:
"Alright, O' 'Alloran. Yooo can 'ave a last request".
The crowd grows silent and all eyes are fixed on the large man strapped to the guillotine (that's O' Halloran, by the way, just in case you were getting confused).
When he finally speaks he says his words slowly and carefully so that there can be no confusion as to his desires:
"I want to have a wank".
The crowd looks at each other and begin muttering amongst themselves as they check whether they've all heard correctly.
"A wank? Yooo are about to be executed and yooo want to have a fumble with your mister wigelldy?", the French midget says dumbfounded.
"Ooo, let him have his wank!", the crowd cheer.
And so, O' Halloran is removed from the neck brace and drawn upwards from the plank.
And he begins to have a bit of an old wank.
The string quartet begins playing the music to accompany the spectacle. This is not a Frankie Goes To Hollywood tune, as you may suspect, but that classic sexy song 'Je t'aime'!
The crowd watch on is stunned silence; the elders making sure the youngsters eyes are covered so as not to disturb them for life.
Doris shouts encouragement: "Faster, O' Halloran. Now slower, slower. Now steady. Wait. And continue!"
The old timer Ipswich Town supporter watches from his prison cell. It's the best life action he's watched all season.
But the French midget watches closely (how this is possible from a man who is merely a mouth and tongue I do knot know or care to guess at) for he knows that there is method in O' Halloran's madness.
He notices that O' Halloran is standing right over the basket - the basket containing the remote control to the time machine.
"Ooo, nooooo! Stop 'im! Eeee iz trying to destroy my fiendish plan!", he suddenly shouts as he realises O' Halloran's motivation for this orgasmic entertainment.
But too late! O' Halloran exhales gently as he expels his 'baby batter' into the basket - a well placed shot which lands directly on the on/off switch.
Almost immediately the ground begins to shake (how was it for you, baby?) and the crowd scream in terror and run to and fro.
"Aha!" laughs O' Halloran, "Who's the daddy?!"
The French midget curses his opponent: "Yooo wanker, O' 'Alloran!".
The scaffold collapses to the ground in a pile of debris and O' Halloran uses the diversion to break free of his guards and knock them unconscious with a well-aimed smack to the chops.
The sky above whirls and spirals like a big whirly/spirally sky thing.
It grows dark, as dark as night as thunder crashes overhead and a thick grey fog envelops the land.
Doris rushes to O' Halloran's side and clings to him.
"I'm scared, O' Halloran but so happy that you are alive", she whimpers.
"No time for whimpering, sugar nipples. We gotta make our way back towards the tunnel before we get trapped in this accursed shit hole".
She looks deep into his eyes with a longing he hasn't seen since his days spent picnicking with his poor deceased donkey Bilbo Baggins.
"I cannot leave, O' Halloran. I am French. I would not survive in your world…"
He grips her in his strong hands and says: "I wanked for you, baby. I did this for you. Plus French chicks are real popular in the future. French men are still seen as pompous, gay twats but the ladies are coveted like a lovely cup of tea and a bar of chocolate after a long drive home on a cold wintry eve".
They kiss each other passionately as high above the sky begins to break loose in huge chunks.
The annoying French midget runs about trying to avoid being trodden on by the escaping crowd and cries out "the sky is falling! The sky is falling!".
One carefully placed kick from Doris sends the insipid little fuck flying through the air, only to land in a puddle that is then driven over by a heard of marauding wild geese.
O' Halloran and Doris laugh loudly at his demise. He was a shit character, quite frankly.
Before they leave there is one more deed to be done.
O' Halloran calls out to the homeless Ipswich town prisoners in the Bastille.
"Come, friends! You must escape. The future is this way and who knows what success Ipswich Town may enjoy if only you give them the love and support that they need".
Something in O' Halloran's words stirs deep emotions in the men. Whereas before they were sceptical - nay, downtrodden - about life, now it seems that they have been given hope. A dream. Yes, a dream that maybe one day they might just start winning matches and be able to compete with the might of teams such as Burnley.
The skinny old man turns to the others "Right, lads, what you be thinkin' on this 'ere queer situation we be embroiled in? Answer me this: Is it escape or certain death that you be fancyin'? "
All at once the men reply "Escape!" and they rush from their opened cells and towards the city sewers where they may once again resume their lives of hardship and torment in the modern world.
"Oh, O' Halloran, you are my hero! Do let us get married and live in holy matrimony until death do us part!", Doris excitedly proclaims.
But just as he is about to answer, the French midget pounces and fights O' Halloran to the ground, biting him in the gonads and then crawling up towards his upper regions. It's just like in Die Hard when Karl comes back to life at the end when he was clearly shown to have been hanged and been caught up in the explosion atop the Nakatomi Plaza - except this is a cheaper and more shitty version.
O' Halloran struggles on the rain sodden turf as the French midget bites and snaps about his ears and then makes his way up to his mouth where he tries to choke O' Halloran with his tongue.
"Oh no! The French Kiss…of Death!", squeals Doris as she wiggles about, flashing some chest for the sleazy dirty Mac brigade pervert's who enjoy reading that sort of thing.
O' Halloran and the midget are now locked in a tongue battle unseen since tonsil hockey was invented by Franciscan Friars out of boredom in the 12th Century.
"Gerroff me, you freak!", O' Halloran gasps.
"Oooo, O' 'Alloran, what iz zee matter? French Midget got your tongue?! Mwah-ha-ha-haw!!!!"
"This ends here, Midget", says O' Halloran as he gains the upper hand - that is 'tongue'. He breaks free and slaps him about the lips and tongue and then pushes him towards Doris who then heads him into a strategically placed onion bag.
"Go cry to Fifa about that one, Frenchy", O' Halloran quips.
He gathers up the entrapped midget and then he and Doris dash towards the crumbling tunnel system just as the final parts of the sky descend on the kingdom of France and crush the entire nation.
* * *
"I gotta hand it to ya, ' Halloran. You came through on this case in the end", the Lieutenant says as he shakes O' Halloran's hand firmly.
"Thanks, Lieutenant. But I couldn't have done it without my faithful companion and wife, Doris"
As they stand together in the lobby of the PsychoTown police station one could be forgiven for thinking that the entire future of the World was in peril but days ago. Now, surrounded by uniformed officers and media, O' Halloran accepts a rapturous applause from the attendant crowd.
The old Ipswich Town supporter is there and so are all the homeless men saved by him.
And an elephant. And a monkey. And a mink.
"O' Halloran, I think I may have been a little hard on you.."
"Don't worry, Lieutenant. I've had sex with much rougher men thatn you"
"No, no! O' Halloran! I meant in terms of my treatment of you after the whole Robo Female cop death"
A silence comes over O' Halloran as he pauses to remember his fallen comrade. And lover. And robot.
The Lieutenant takes out something from his pocket and places it in O' Halloran's hand.
It's his old badge - no, not the Frankie Say Relax one he bought in the summer of '84; this is his police badge.
"Welcome back…., Detective", beams the Lieutenant sincerely.
O' Halloran tries to conceal the tears welling up in his eyes but he is so overcome with joy that he just smiles and silently shakes the Lieutenant's hand again.
All those present toss their hats in the air - even those who don't wear hats.
A child hobble forwards and hugs O' Halloran. It's Tiny Timmy!
"Congratulations, O' Halloran!", he squeaks.
"I…I thought you were dead?", O' Halloran says mystified and exhilarated.
"That was just a reaction to the glass of raging homosexual you gave me. I still have another hour or so before I croak it", he smiles that crooked smile.
O' Halloran kisses the boy on the forehead and then he and Doris French kiss like two randy teenagers at a late night disco in the back streets of a run down city. There could be some lovin' tonight.
The crowd start singing 'Hark the Herald'. Why, I do not know. It's nowhere near Christmas yet.
"Hark the Herald
Glory to the new born Kind…"
Merry Christmas to all and to all a Good night!
Away from this celebration and shite, deep down in the dark cold corridors of the PsychoTown lunatic asylum lurks a cackling figure in a padded cell. There, the evil French midget rocks back and forth muttering to himself: "I shall 'ave me revenge. Oh yes, O' ' Alloran, I shall return to have my sweet, sweet revenge!"
Suddenly a brilliant ray of light from above lights up the room. The midget dwarf levitates and then vanishes from sight.
He reappears inside a spacecraft that hovers above the world.
"Where am I? Who are you???", he asks.
A dark figure sits by a large control console with rows of screens, each showing different scenes of O' Halloran - in fact, he appears to be having a wank in pretty much all of them.
The dark figure turns towards the midget and steps into the brightness to show their face:
"I am the seven-foot woman from the original story and you will assist me in destroying O' Halloran and all the stupid people of PsychoTown once and for all!!!"
The two of them laugh manically. And have sex. Probably. Ok, maybe not. They just laugh manically, that's all.
THE END (thank fuck)
Unhappy with this ending?
Well, fuck off!
No, only kidding, you saddo.
You can choose the Alternative ending of DEATH instead.
Now, fuck off!