THE RISE & FALL OF CAPTAIN-BADGER.


In Sputum’s town square there’s a statue that bares
a face with a tear-jerking story.
As he once was the host of the show with the most,
and he revelled in fortune and glory.
Every weekday at four, children sat on the floor
with their noses an inch from the screen.
And with breath all but baited, they waited and waited
until it was their cue to scream.......
“We can see you Captain-Badger! We can see you Captain-Badger!
Why don’t you come out of the tree?”
And this simple catchphrase was a national craze
in the summer of seventy-three.
As well as TV, there were Christmas LP’s,
and a lucrative range of soft-toys.
This fat badger chap in a nautical-cap
was a huge hit with all girls and boys.

Arnold J. Klute was the man in the suit
who was reaping the harvest of fame.
As his bank-balance grew, his ego did too,
as he played the celebrity game.
Yet try as he might he just could not excite
all the women he met around town.
Though he gave it his best, they were far from impressed
by a kiddie-shows novelty clown.
Arnold took this to heart and it played a huge part
in his growing addiction to scotch.
And his binge’s got worse, till he could not rehearse,
then the whole of his lines he would botch.
Things came to a head, when he lay drunk in bed
on the eve of a charity-show.
And the closer it got to the Captain’s prime-slot,
the producer grew frantic with woe.
As the host Hughie Green did present to the Queen
a fire walking act from Bombay.
Backstage it was manic with last-minute panic
as the seconds were ticking away.
Then a sudden loud crash made everyone dash
to the door round the back of the stage,
as Arnold burst in with a bottle of gin
and a suit that was showing it’s age.
“Thur izz nuthing to fear, BAPTAIN CADGER izz ere!
Now lezz ged thizz show on ver road!”

Arnold’s every word sounded laboured and slurred,
like some strange indecipherable code.
“You have under a minute, find your suit and GET IN IT!”
The angry producer did shout.
Then he quickly departed, as Arnold had farted,
and started to wave it about.

The applause rung aloud as the firewalker bowed
and did exit the stage to the right.
Then the audience cheered as old Hughie appeared
and he said.... “Here’s the STAR OF THE NIGHT!”
The curtain did rise, and everyone's eyes
came to rest on a backdrop of trees.
With the Captain stood there, seeming quite unaware
half his costume had dropped to his knees.
The clapping soon halted as parent’s hands bolted
to cover the eye’s of their youth.
But some children from Goole, on a coach-trip from school,
started chanting the terrible truth.....
“WE CAN SEE YOUR SPADGER, CAPTAIN BADGER!”
Yelled the school-kids all sat near the stage,
as the viewer’s at home jammed the BBC phones
to express their disgust and outrage.
The spotlight was stopped and the curtain then dropped
as the stage-hands ran out from the wings.
They approached him with care as he started to swear
and call them unspeakable things.
“It takess more than six clownss to get thizz badger down!”
Arnold said as he swayed to and fro’.
Then he pulled out a gun, and he started to run,
like a man who had breeze-blocks for toes.
“Quick, take him out!” The producer did shout,
as he ran off to hide in the shower.
But nobody moved, as they did not approve
of being shot-at for five pounds an hour.
As a young French magician made the final incision
while sawing a woman in two,
Arnold entered the stage in a spirit-fuelled rage,
his ‘spadger’ still open to view.
The crowd then fell mute, as the badger did shoot,
and made several holes in the ceiling.
And the viewers at home jammed the BBC phones
to express their disgust and ill-feeling.
The Queen disappeared and the royal-box was cleared
as her bodyguards went through their drill.
And detective Jack Moore was the first on the draw,
and he fired with intention to kill.
As the bullets whizzed by, the badger did cry,
when one got him right in the bot’.

And the viewers at home jammed the BBC phones,
to congratulate Moore on his shot.
With nowhere to run and a wound in the bum
his attention was drawn to the fact,
that the girl sawn in two, could help him pursue
his OWN kind of vanishing act.
It came as a shock to the girl in the box
when the gun was then pressed to her head.
Then he shouted to Moore... “Throw your gun to the floor,
or half of this woman izz DEAD!”
The hostage then cried as the gunmen complied,
and the badger did wheel her offstage.
But her blubbing got worse, till the badger did curse,
and then threatened to shoot in his rage.
Her screaming increased, so the badger then ceased,
and returned to the stage in a rush.
“Her top-half’s too loud!” He said to the crowd,
as the other half-box he did push.
He then made his retreat out into the street
where a large crowd had started to grow,
and much booing begun, as he walked with the gun
aiming straight at his hostage’s toe.
“I’ll blow it away if you get in my way!”
he threatened the heckling mass.
Upon seeing the gun, some started to run,
leaving room for the badger to pass.
He set off down the road with his unwitting load,
on a journey that lasted some miles.
And the crowd followed too, as it grew and it grew,
recruiting new blood all the while.
Over London’s Tower-bridge went the strange pilgrimage,
then everyone froze in their tracks.
As halfway across, Arnold stopped with the box,
and then lifted it onto his back.
He climbed on the rail, and the crowd (turning pale)
realised he was planning to leap.
“My half-friend and I are sssaying goodbye!”
he said as he started to weep.
“And before we both go, I just want you to know
that I’ve alwayss detested young kids!”
His opinion now aired, he then swiftly prepared
to continue his suicide-bid.
Then the badger was shocked when from out of the box
an angry WHOLE woman appeared,
and she punched at his face, till his footing lost place,
and the onlookers heartily cheered.
“So THAT’s how it’s done!” The badger begun,
as into the Thames he did fall.
The woman prevailed, clinging on to the rail,
still a little confused by it all.
Though no body was found, the Police said he’d drowned
and the badger was wrote off as dead.
‘ROYAL-FLASHER KILLED AS AN AUDIENCE THRILLED!’
The paper’s sensationally read.

And so ends this story of misguided glory,
this modern day fable of woe.
Let this cautionary tale be an early reveille
for those with a lust for the show.
And for those resolute in their showbiz pursuit,
take a look at the Klute resumay,
Too wrapped up in the sorrows of all his tomorrows,
he never considered today.