Author's Note: This song is based on the thought - what would have happened if Ted and Dougal actually sang the song they copied, and they won the EuroSong competition? Would they have become contented, fat singers lounging in their collars on a Florida beach, alongside Bishop Brennan and his family? Or would it have turned out differently... (very short story, probably could have been longer, except I was lazy, LOL)
***
Ted looked up at their scores. 10. 10. 10. 9
from the French judge, what a jerk. Probably rank fixing with the
Russians.
Russia 9. 10.
They waited. How many more acts before the end? Russia went
on, singing a song about their love for Dolly Parton, the
Portuguese singing about their favourite cow.
"Hey, hey, you stole our idea!" Ted shouted.
Dougal, for once, had something intelligent to say.
"Ted, didn't we steal our song from that band that all died in the airplane crash?"
"No, Dougal, we borrowed it, like a tribute," he replied, trying not
to look at the wide-eyed gaze of the young priest beside
him. "Now, shush Dougal. They're going to announce the winner."
"...and Fathers Ted Crilly and Dougal Maguire with My Lovely Horse win
the Eurosong Competition, making Ireland a four
time winner! Congratulations to the two fathers!"
Ted grinned for the camera. This would finally be his way of that
bloody forsaken island. No more Jack, no more Dougal, no
more Mrs. Doyle and her incessant offering of tea. He could imagine
it now...
Actresses and models swathed in sequinned dresses over his arms, a martini
in each hand. Feeding quarters into slot machines
in Las Vegas, watching as they hit jackpot over and over, living in
a mansion of a parochial house with his gorgeous Swedish
maid and appreciative congregation...
He took a look over at Dougal. In front of the entire world, he was playing with his toy trucks.
"Dougal, don't be an eejit. Smile for the camera."
~~~
Mrs. Doyle cooed as she saw the two Fathers winning the Eurosong competition on television.
"Well, I suppose now they're going to go off and become big-time rock
stars now, aren't they, Father Jack. So it will just be
you and I here now. Tea, Father?"
In a sudden feat of strength at the realization that he and Mrs. Doyle
would be together alone for the next while, he broke all the
ropes that bound him to his armchair, leapt up, and dove through the
window.
Mrs. Doyle shrugged, and sipped at the tea.
~~~
Dougal wasn't quite sure what was going on. He only knew that
they kept having to sing the great song he and Ted had made
up. My Lovely Horse. Ted said with all the loads of money
they'd get from the song, they might even get to buy a real horse.
At the time it sounded like the greatest idea of all time. He'd
call the horse Len after his favourite bishop in the world.
People kept taking his clothes off and putting him in new ones.
Snapping flashing pictures. He just gave his usual grin, but
after a while, he started to wonder. Where was Mrs. Doyle?
Where was Father Jack?
After a few days, he managed to come up with a reason - they were now
rock stars, and Mrs. Doyle and Father Jack were
back on Craggy Island.
"Ted," he said to him as they were half-way through My Lovely Horse-athon
at Wembley Stadium, a sold out show.
Thousands of screaming girls were ripping at his blue glittery tux,
but he didn't notice."
"Shut up and finish the song, Dougal," Ted hissed.
"Ted, I'm tired of this whole rock star thing. I want to go home."
"You can't go home, finish the fecking song," he snapped. "Running through
the fields, where are you going with your
fetlocks blowing in the wind..."
"No, Ted, I want to go home and watch Aliens again. No more Lovely
Horse. I want some tea and ferrero rochers from Mrs.
Doyle. I want to hear Jack telling me to go feck off. I
want to see my friend Len again."
He threw his guitar down on the stage.
~~~
Bishop Len Brennan, who was watching the show live with his 'friend
from America,' and her son, saw Dougal's declaration
that he was returning to the cloth.
"NOOOOO!"
~~~
Ted finished the song without Dougal to the roaring cheers of the audience,
without that ungrateful little gobshite. Well, if he
was going to leave, Ted could do it himself. After all those
commercials he had gotten him, after all the things he'd done for
Dougal, now he was just LEAVING? That was fine. He could
handle it without him.
Walking down the street to the liquor store, he picked up a bottle of
sacramental wine, and headed for the nearest casino
before his flight to New York for the Celebrity Priests of the Year
Awards.
~~~
Mrs. Doyle heard a soft tapping on the front door, and swung it open,
hoping again the visitor would be Pat Mustard, returned
after the unfortunate 'milk float incident.' The police said
they never found a body from the phone booth...there was always
home that somehow he didn't drown, die from the burns, get sent to
a psychiatric hospital, or put in jail for all the ugly children
he fathered.
No, it was Dougal, nice, but not as nice as Pat Mustard.
"Father!" she exclaimed, "You're back!"
"No more rock star life for me, Mrs. Doyle. I think I'll just
stick with aliens and rabbits and my rollerblades and taking Jack out
for a walk once in a while."
"Ooo, I wouldn't do that just now Father...I've just managed to get
him with the tranquilizer gun and get him back into bed.
Now, Father...would you like a cup of tea?"
~~~
Ted was in front of the crowd at the Celebrity Priests of the Year awards. Every major bishop was there, all the Celebrities of the Catholic church, even the elusive Sister Wendy.
"And this year's most promising new Celebrity priest award goes to - Father Ted Crilly of Ireland! Father Ted, come up here and recieve your Celebrity Priest of the Year award!" the young nun called out in front of the cameras.
Ted finished off his last bottle of sacramental wine, and dropped the bottle onto the floor. He swaggered up onto the stage, and headed for the microphone.
"Hello, everyone, thanks for giving me this award. This is even better than that Golden Cleric I won back in the day. Back in the day when it was just me, Father Jack, Father Dougal, and Mrs. Doyle, off on Craggy Island. The parishioners respected me back then, dammit, and I didn't have to wear a glittering blue tux, either. I was a true man of the cloth. Jack drinking toilet duck - Mrs. Doyle making three hundred sandwiches for three visiting bishops - residing as head priest over an island with a class 2 relic - watching Dougal still entertained by his copy of Aliens that he's seen twenty five times...God, I love him, you know that."
A stunned murmuring rippled through the crowd.
"That's right, Father Crilly!" one young priest yelled back in a feminine voice, standing up from the crowd. "You stand up for your true self! With that, I have an admission - I am in love with Bishop Freddy Corelli! I love you, Fred! I want us to be together forever!"
"No, no, no!" Ted shouted back, still rather slurred, "I don't mean that sort of thing. You know, the Catholic church doesn't believe in - well, that type of sinful relationship. I love Dougal like I'd love my own son."
The young priest sat down, looking dejected as a group of nuns playing usherettes shot him a glare.
"And I have an admission to make! Dougal was right, we did steal that song. We stole it from Dougal's Eurosong record. God, what an arse I've been. Forgive me, Dougal, Jack, though I know you never really will..."
Booing began in the crowd. It swelled to a loud crescendo, and Ted was escorted out by a group of nuns headed by Sister Assumpta, wriggling and shouting like Father Jack attempting to free himself from his straitjacket.
~~~
Father Dougal sat in front of the telly watching Teletubbies, a very entertaining, if intellectually confusing, program. He giggled as the purple one ate his cookie.
"Mrs. Doyle, do we have any cookies?" he asked.
"No," she replied, "Though I do have a good cup of tea brewing..."
"No what?" he responded.
She shook her head and reached over for the button on the set. "Father Ted's award show is on now."
"Ooh, I don't care about that show. I'd much rather watch teletubbies. Actually, no, I don't like that green one in the garbage can."
"Green one in the garbage can?" Mrs. Doyle replied.
"You know...Oscar...turn over, quick, maybe I'll see Len on there."
She flicked the dial around until they got to the awards show, shown live from New York. Ted was on stage, in his white collar and now typical holographic blue tux. The My Lovely Horse video was playing on a screen behind him in front of hundreds of Bishops, Cardinals, Priests, and Nuns. Stunned, they watched the tail end of his somewhat-inebriated, from the heart (and bottle) speech.
"Feck!" Jack spat as he saw Ted's face.
The nuns came on stage and began to drag Ted away.
"Nuns! Nuns! Nuns!" Jack squawked madly, until they showed a shot of only Ted's drunken face. Jack began to laugh.
There was a knock on the door. Mrs. Doyle went to open it, hoping once again it was Pat Mustard. It wasn't, she discovered with some disappointment. It was, however, Father Ted, looking disheveled, his sparkly blue outfit now discarded for his usual priest's outfit.
"Our Eurosong title was taken away," he said as he entered the living
room, "And Bishop Brennan said it was very unlikely I was ever going to
get off this island ever again. Then again, he said if he had his
way I would have been shipped to Botswana, but he said that he's already
got enough embarrassment to deal with now that the cat's out of the bag
with Bishop Corelli...but at least Father Dick Byrne still didn't win!"
"Ha ha, Ted, you made a big fat eejit of yourself on television," Dougal
laughed.
"Feck!" Jack cried.
"Well, didn't that all turn out nicely?" Mrs. Doyle soothed. "Back to normal. Now, wouldn't you like a cup of tea, Father?"
imagine end theme music here>
~~~
Lyrics To My Lovely Horse
My lovely horse,
Running through the field,
Where are you going with your fetlocks blowing in the wind?
I want to shower you with sugar lumps,
And ride you over fences,
Polish your hooves every single day,
And bring you to the horse dentist,
My lovely horse,
You're a pony no more,
Running around with a man on your back,
Like a train in the night,
(Yeah)
Like a train in the night.
~~~
None of these characters or anything belong to me, it's fan fiction
about the greatest comedy of all time...Father Ted. Besides, I have
no money anyhow...lol...