rr.armageddonthemusical-第3部分

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ake　up　a　few　lost　minutes。'　
　　　'You'd　never　find　it；'　said　the　receptionist；　sighing　hopelessly。　'Others　have　tried。　Men；　what　good　are　they；　eh？　One　brain　between　the　lot　of　them。'　Rex　examined　his　finger　nails。　They　didn't　bear　examination。
　　　'Possibly　someone　might　be　kind　enough　to　show　me　the　way　then。'　
　　　The　receptionist　peered　about　the　otherwise　deserted　entrance　hall。
　　　'It　would　seem；'　said　she；　at　length；　'that　all　are　engaged　in　their　various　business　pursuits。　Perhaps　you'd　better　e　back　some　other　time。'　
　　　Rex　stared　into　the　smiling　face。　He　could　always　make　it　look　like　an　accident。　Say　she　just　fell　and　broke　her　neck。　But　then；　what　if　he　was　discovered？　It　could　very　easily　spoil　his　chances　of　early　promotion。　'Is　my　sister　Gloria　about？'　he　asked　casually。
　　　'Gloria？'　The　name　took　a　moment　or　two　to　sink　in；　but　when　it　finally　did；　the　effect　was　nothing　less　than　magical。　'Gloria　Mundi？'　said　the　receptionist　in　a　still；　small　voice。　'Station　controller？'　
　　　'Got　her　in　one；'　said　Rex　brightly。　'My　sister；　if　you　could　just　give　her　a　buzz；　I'm　sure　she　wouldn't　mind　showing　me　the　way。　It　was　she　who　arranged　the　interview；　you　see。'　
　　　The　receptionist　who　personally　conveyed　Rex　to　the　door　of　Ms　Vrillium's　office　appeared　to　have　undergone　a　miraculous　transfiguration。　Having　provocatively　wiggled　down　the　corridors　before　him；　she　now　took　her　leave　with　a　ely　wink　and　a　husky；　'See　you　later；　big　boy。'　
　　　Rex　watched　her　depart。　What　a　charming　woman；　he　thought；　I　know　I'm　just　going　to　love　working　here。
　　　It's　surprising　just　how　utterly　wrong　it's　possible　to　be；　when　you　really　put　your　mind　to　it。　For　whilst　Rex　stood　in　that　corridor；　regarding　the　receptionist's　receding　rear…end　and　considering　the　engaging　possibilities　of　nepotism　correctly　applied；　dark　clouds　were　gathering　upon　the　already　darkened　horizon。　Great　forces　were　stirring　beneath　the　Earth's　surface；　and　in　a　distant　part　of　the　galaxy；　plans　were　being　hatched　that　would　ultimately　threaten　the　very　fabric　of　universal　existence。
　　　Or　so　it　says　here。
　　　
　　　If　it's　God's　will；　who　gets　the　money？　Tony　O'Blimey
　　　If　there　is　one　factor　which　binds　together　all　the　really　great　religions　of　this　world；　it's　that　God　created　man　in　his　own　image。　Many　cynical　atheists　loudly　assert　that　the　reverse　is　really　the　case；　putting　the　whole　thing　down　to　egocentricity　on　the　part　of　the　believer。　But　then　what　do　atheists　know　about　God　anyway？　What　these　doubting　Toms　have　failed　to　grasp　is　the　hidden　truth：　God　created　man　in　his　own　image；　because　he　had　to。　The　erect　biped；　head　at　the　top；　feet　at　the　bottom；　wedding　tackle　about　halfway　up；　represents　the　universal　archetype；　when　it　es　to　the　'intelligent'　being。　This　fact　has　long　been　known　to　science…fiction　afficionados　and　UFO　contactees。　Alien　beings；　from　no　matter　which　part　of　the　galaxy　they　might　hail；　inevitably　bear　a　striking　resemblance　to　man。　There　are　the　occasional　variations　in　height　and　cranial　dimensions；　but　for　the　most　part　our　cosmic　cousins　are　a　pretty　reasonable　facsimile　of　ourselves。　Many　even　speak　good　English；　often　with　a　pronounced　American　accent。　Such　facts　can　hardly　be　argued　with。　They　are　evidence；　should　any　really　be　needed；　of　a　cosmic　masterplan；　and　sufficient　in　themselves　to　serve　friend　atheist　up　with　a　wok…load　of　egg。　Faces；　for　the　use　of。
　　　What　it　all　es　down　to；　as　it　so　often　does；　is　the　very　beginning　of　the　universe。　This；　say　the　bigheads　of　the　scientific　fraternity；　all　began　with　a　big　bang。　Wrong！　The　universe；　in　fact；　began　with　the　sound　of　a　duck　call；　followed　by　a　whistle　and　an　enormous　cosmic　wind…break。　Had　anyone　been　around　at　the　time　to　overhear　these　sounds；　they　would　probably　have　received　a　pretty　good　indication　of　what　God　had　up　his　sleeve；　amongst　other　places。
　　　About　five　minutes　after　the　burst　of　celestial　flatulence；　when　the　air　had　begun　to　clear　a　bit；　things　began　to　settle　down　into　the　shapes　which　were　most　fortable　and　efficient　for　them。　And　so　they　remained。　No…one　has　yet　improved　upon　the　sphere　as　a　planetary　shape；　nor　the　erect　biped　as　its　ruling　species。　That's　the　way　it　is。　Like　it；　or　lump　it。　QED。
　　　Certainly；　some　races　evolved　mentally　a　lot　quicker　than　others。　The　reason　for　this　has　e　to　be　known　as　Duke's　Principle；　'a　man's　gotta　do；　what　a　man's　gotta　do'。　Or　to　simplify　it；　they　evolved　quicker；　because　they　had　to。　It　all　depends　very　much　upon　what　a　particular　planet　has　to　offer　in　terms　of　pickable　food；　huntable　animals；　farmable　lands　and　whatever。　The　Trempish　of　Trempera；　for　instance；　found　themselves　peting　with　huge　armour…plated　reptiles；　carnivores　with　virtually　impenetrable　hides　and　seemingly　insatiable　appetites。　If　the　Trempish　hadn't　had　the　ingenuity　to　dig　a　series　of　baited　dead…falls；　distil　an　acid　from　the　bark　of　a　rare　tree；　tip　their　arrows　with　it　and　shoot　the　trapped　beasties　in　their　exposed　pineal　glands；　they　would　surely　have　died　out。　As　it　was；　they　hadn't；　so　they　did！　Thus　proving；　that　when　a　man's　gotta　do　what　a　man's　gotta　do；　he'd　better　pull　his　finger　out　and　get　on　with　it。
　　　And　so　it　was　with　the　Phnaargs　of　Phnaargos。　Their　'gotta　doing'　was　not　immediately　apparent。　They　lived　upon　a　gloriously　verdant　world；　devoid　of　killer　reptiles　and　flying　scorpions；　rich　in　natural　vegetation；　with　a　mild　climate　and　some　really　knockout　sunsets。　However；　to　wax　biblical；　this　Eden　was　not　without　its　serpent。　Only　here　it　came　in　the　form　of　the　cathode　ray　tube。　Mankind　didn't　e　across　this　miracle　until　its　closing　moments；　but　it　wasn't　so　on　Phnaargos。　For　on　Phnaargos；　the　cathode　ray　tube　grew　wild。　And　so；　at　a　time　when　humankind　was　still　tossing　rocks　at　the　hairy　elephants　and　experimenting　with　DIY　in　the　family　cave；　the　Phnaargs　were　watching　TV。
　　　Now；　if　it　was　strange　that　the　cathode　ray　tube　should　grow　wild　upon　a　planet；　then　it　is　surely　stranger　still　that　the　botanical　equivalents　of　the　video　camera；　the　microphone；　the　mixing　desk；　the　spotlight；　the　little　monocular　thing　that　a　really　duff　director　wears　around　his　neck；　and　all　the　other　paraphernalia　necessary　to　television　production；　should　similarly　be　blooming　away；　ready　for　the　harvest。　In　fact；　many　might　be　forgiven　for　finding　it　unlikely；　to　say　the　very　least。　But　the　Almighty　moves　in　mysterious　ways；　his　wonders　to　perform。　And　who　are　we　to　question　his　motives？
　　　Now；　with　all　this　technology　sprouting　around　them；　one　might　also　be　forgiven　for　thinking　that　the　Phnaargs　were　a　'race　blessed　of　God'。　But；　you'd　be　wrong　on　that　one　too。　For　nothing　could　be　further　from　the　truth。　The　Phnaargs　were　the　first　race　ever　to　bee　irrevocably　hooked　on　television；　the　first　to　fall　victim　to　the　dangerous　and　terminally　addictive　radiations　of　the　cathode　ray　tube。　And　once　infected　at　such　an　early　stage　in　their　development；　they　were　well　and　truly　done　for。
　　　Within　a　few　short　years　of　their　discovery；　the　planet　was　literally　forested　with　cultivated　TV　stations　and　the　Phnaargs；　almost　slaves。　Those　not　engaged　in　full　time　viewing　strove　to　supply　the　needs　of　those　who　were。　The　needs　soon　became　demands　and　the　demands　were　wild。　For　this　was　a　young　and　primitive　stock　and　it　liked　its　TV　meaty！
　　　And　so　Duke's　Principle　came　into　effect　upon　Phnaargos。　The　Phnaarg　TV　execs；　finding　that　supply　was　far　outstripped　by　demand；　were　forced　to　do　something。　To　boldly　go　where　no　man　had　gone　before。　To　seek　out　new　worlds　and　new　civilizations。　And　televise　them。
　　　And　such　it　was；　that　by　a　rare　freak　of　chance；　which　suddenly　makes　all　the　foregoing　relevant；　the　Phnaargs　came　across　Planet　Earth。　Here　they　found　man；　still　stoning　the　mammoths；　whacking　up　the　murals　and　generally　minding　his　own　business。　Had　he　been　allowed　to　carry　on　with　these　trivial　pursuits；　he　would　probably　be　doing　so　even　now。　But　the　visiting　Phnaargs　were　not　slow　to　realize　the　potential　of　mankind's　development　as　great　TV　material。　They　wasted　little　time　in　setting　up　their　horticultural　transmitters　and　getting　on　with　the　show。　And　the　rest；　like　it　or　like　it　not；　is　history。
　　　Th