(A room appears. It somehow has a homey feel to it, despite being large, comfortable, well lit, and not at all damp. Soft music is playing. Uncle Mort enters through a door. He takes off his customary loud jacket, hangs it up, and puts on an equally loud cardigan sweater. As he does this, he sings.)
| MORT: |
If it's friendliness you want, here you'll get a bowl full. I'm happy to meet all you Goblin souls. You're all done with life, so wretched and so woeful. No more of suffering in those cold, damp holes.
My name is Uncle Mort, and I'm a celestial spirit.
'Til Armageddon comes, you have no duties and no labors. |
| MORT: | Now it's time for something really, really nice. It's a special treat for all you good little Goblin souls that I like to call "Meet Your Maker". And here comes our special guest now! |
| (Suddenly a darkness descends. It is both a literal darkness and a darkness of the soul, a pervasive feeling that surrender to death is the only possible mode of existence. Only the two comfy chairs remain illuminated, and the second is now occupied by Mordak Deathforge.) | |
| MORT: | Welcome to "Meet Your Maker", Lord Mordak Deathforge, Shadow of Yultan. It's an honor to have you here, O Destroyer God, and I know all the souls of dead Goblins are really excited to experience the glorious grimness of your divine presence. |
| MORDAK: | Thank you, Uncle Mort. Let me say that I really appreciate the job you are doing here in keeping my dead souls entertained. I know that it can get a deadly dull in the Underworld at times--eternity passes slowly at times, especially when the racks are down for maintenance--and any life you can bring down here is greatly appreciated. Seriously, anyone who can raise the spirits of the dead has my respect. And I also appreciate that warm welcome from my Goblin spirits. Even though they are the least of my creations, they too are noted. |
| MORT: | Speaking of creations, that Creation of the World was really something! It was a bit overwhelming for a mere celestial spirit like me. What did you think of it? |
| MORDAK: | Well, as you know, when Yultan created the earth it was under my guiding hand. We're a team--he's the muscle and...you know the rest. To get technical for a moment, "As it was given to Yultan Earthforge to create the earth, so it is given to the hand of Mordak to destroy it". That's straight from the book. Now, we have big plans for the earth. We created it as a testing ground for the gods, to help in the grand contest we are running for Supreme Diety of the universe. And I wish every god well in that endeavor. But, you can't help but have some pride in your creation, and in wishing it was just so--everything neat and tidy. All of your audience will have noticed by now that the earth is not the efficient place it was promised to be. I have to take some of the blame for that, for not seeing that any such marvelous creation would be viewed with jealousy by the sympathizers of chaos. Not only was a flaw struck in the earth while it was cooling (and Yultan and I were catching a well-earned forty winks), but what was to be our mark on the earth, a burning desert cauldron surrounded by rugged mountains was splashed with water by more jealous gods who don't know how to properly put down terrain. It's going to cause some trouble before history is over. And, I don't mind telling you, that's part of the reason that you Goblins live in damp holes in the ground. |
| MORT: | Now that you've brought up the Goblins, there's something I've always wanted to ask. Just how did the idea of creating them come to you? With all that stuff going on during creation, I would have thought something like the Goblins might have been overlooked entirely. |
| MORDAK: | I am the god of details. That may surprise you, but it takes attention to detail to process all of the souls that come through here. You don't know the trouble it causes if even one soul goes missing. The paperwork alone! But, I digress. Now, everyone knows that being a soul is a journey. You start out small and, if you live a good life and follow the rules (as laid down by me) you move up in the next life. My assistant god Karma is in charge of that department. I had the mighty races laid out early--your Fire Orcs and your Devil Weed. Doing the big races is easy, all fire and brimstone, surly dispositions and pig-noses. It's all broad-brush kind of creating, no subtle colors. But, not every god would notice that the little guy was missing. You have to have a miserable little race where a soul can really suffer, and that's where my Goblins come in. |
| MORT: | I'm sure all the Goblins with us today are proud to do their part, inconsequential as it may be. But what of really important doings? Are there any special projects you're working on that you'd like to tell us about? |
| MORDAK: | Well, the groundwork is being laid for the destruction of the earth. You can't start working on these big jobs too early, I always say. There are prophecies to be written, prophets to be born--and there's some tricky coordination required there--miracles and disasters to be scheduled. I can't be too specific about the details, you understand. There is always a god in the wings waiting to rain on your parade. But, I am sure that the Hammer of Worlds will play a role. It is a heavy responsibility, guarding the Hammer and making sure that it is used responsibly, but my brother and I are up to the task. |
| MORT: | I'm sure you are! Finally, is there anything in particular you'd like to say to our dead friends? Any special perspectives you'd like to give them about their role in the grand scheme of things? |
| MORDAK: | I would just like to say that I appreciate all the effort you dead souls out there have put into your lives on earth. You've really made history a quality show so far. Lets keep up the good work. And don't let my talk about the destruction of the world worry you. I know that you mortal souls have a linear view of time. Let me assure you that it all comes out right in the end. There will be a place for each and every one of you when time runs out. And for those of you who don't make it into the big leagues this time around, just be the very best damp hole dwellers you can be. Thank you, Uncle Mort. |
| MORT: | Thank you, Morkdak Deathforge, the Last God. It's been fascinating talking with you. I know all the dead Gobins will be much more at ease with their memories of earthly woes, based on what you've told us. So long, and tell that whacky brother of yours Yultan that Uncle Mort says hello! |
| MORT: | Now let's take a ride to the Magic Land of Make Believe This Isn't Happening! |
| (Uncle Mort enters a cage, closes the sliding door behind him, and pulls a lever. The background appears to descend, as if we were watching the cage rise. Smiling worms and other subterranean denizens pass by, and the is tinkly music playing. The cage stops on reaching the surface, and Uncle Mort comes out. He encounters a puppet in the form of a goblin, lying on its side.) | |
| MORT: | Why, there's Mr. Gobbo taking a nap! Uh, oh! Here come some naughty Spartans! |
| (Two Spartan puppets enter, snickering. They lift Mr. Gobbo carefully, not waking him, move him to the bank of a nearby pond where some female Hooter puppets are bathing, then sneak off. Soon, the Hooters notice Gobbo and scream. This awakens him, and he runs off, chased by a group of angry male Hooter puppets. Mr. Gobbo runs straight into Uncle Mort, apparently having evaded his pursuers. He is panting heavily.) | |
| MORT: | Well, well, Mr. Gobbo. You sure got in a lot of trouble taking your nap out in the open. Why didn't you stay in your hole? |
| GOBBO: | I couldn't Uncle Mort. It rained yesterday and my hole is all flooded. I tried to take my nap in a tree, but some Stegal pooped on me. Well, I've had it! I'm going to climb up Mt. Spewer to take my nap. No one will follow me there. |
| MORT: | I don't know, Mr. Gobbo. That doesn't sound like a very good idea. |
| GOBBO: | Well, I'm going to try it anyway. Bye-bye, Uncle Mort. |
| (Mr. Gobbo struggles up Mt. Spewer, assailed from time to time by falling rocks and other assorted indignities. Finally, he reaches a plateau large enough to permit him to lie down, and begins his nap. Immediately, Mt. Spewer erupts, and we hear a very brief scream before Mr. Gobbo is covered with lava. Our point of view returns to Uncle Mort, who is shaking his head.) | |
| MORT: | Well, I tried to warn him. |
| (With a "ping" sound, Mr. Gobbo sudden appears on Uncle Mort's shoulder.) | |
| GOBBO: | What happened? |
| MORT: | You're dead now, Mr. Gobbo, and can come with me to the Underworld, your eternal resting place. |
| GOBBO: | Really? |
| MORT: | Sure! And look over there! |
| (First, we see the homes of the Spartans, which have been destroyed by the eruption. The Spartan puppets are shivering in the cold. Then we see that the lands of the Hooters have also been devastated. They are clearly hungry, and are fighting over a small scrap of food.) | |
| GOBBO: | Hooray! I bet they wish they were dead too! |
| MORT: | You bet, Mr. Gobbo! But they'll just have to wait their turn. |
| (Mr. Gobbo and Uncle Mort both laugh. The scene dissolves, and Uncle Mort is back in his comfy chair.) | |
| MORT: | Wasn't that a wonderful story? And, my
friends, while you're here in the nice, comfortable Afterlife, don't
forget about all the other goblins you've left behind. They're
still putting up with all the woe and wretchedness that goes with
goblin life. So every once in a while, pray to the gods to bring
them a quick and well-earned death. Well, that's all for now. Catch you later! |