Their most important function was to chant the correct "hum" whilst I was "hatching" out of a giant egg in the art gallery. It was just after this that Mr Clark made his public comments. The wizards were naturally enough furious at hearing their great leader unfairly vilified.

A Council of War was held high up in the clouds above the city at the Gondola Terminal. We decided to combine our magical forces and the powers latent in the giant egg and the wizard's nest in a "Day of Rage". We informed the TV crews who were waiting at the top of the mountain to hear our response.


Wizards' Day of Rage

The Exploding Egg
At noon on Wednesday of Wizard's Week, the seven wizards collected the giant egg from the art gallery. Now with a gaping hole from which I had "hatched" on the previous Sunday. They processed down "The Sacred Way" (Worcester Boulevard), past the old phone box with its historic plaque See "Phone Box War" on this site), and into Cathedral Square.

Placing the egg near the hallowed spot where I had been addressing the multitudes for 21 years, we carried out a series of rituals before all finally gathering inside the egg. Local and national media were present to witness the unusual "Wizards' Day of Rage".

To the sound of a drum roll from members of Alfs Imperial Army (see article on this web-site) and the waving of banners announcing "Mt Cook Exploits Wizards", by friendly amateur monastics, the giant egg began to shake, rattle and roll.

Finally it split open like a ripe fruit, spilling out wizards in all directions. The wizards, now white hot with anger, began breaking large pieces of egg shell over each others' heads in an orgy of violence.

They threw the pieces into the large crowd who, being persuaded that these fragments had magic powers to cure warts and relieve the pain of insect bites, provided they had "faith", eagerly snapped them up.

Cathedral Desecrated
This spectacle was marred by a bizarre incident which took place while the wizards were busily engaged inside the egg. A pair of respectable looking religious fundamentalists, later seen entering the New Life Centre, seized our staffs, which we left outside the egg, and rushed into the Cathedral with them.

Obviously maddened by the sight of so many wizards leaping about they took our staffs and laid them on the tomb of the first Bishop of Christchurch, a very holy spot. They then muttered incantations, which they no doubt imagined to be prayers, to destroy the powers of the staffs.

The Cathedral staff were outraged by this desecration of their beloved shrine. The consequences of this "cursing of the staffs" were catastrophic on the spell we cast later in the week for the home rugby team at the most important match for years. The full story will be told in "The Hazards of Casting Rugby Football Spells" at present being prepared for this site.

Wizard's Nest Torn to Pieces
The enraged wizards then hurried to the University of Canterbury. Storming through the library and taking the lift to the top floor they leapt upon the huge wizard's nest perched on top of the library tower and tore it apart with their bare hands.

Their fury having abated, they returned to the commodious new Hotel Grand Chancellor which had kindly provided accommodation for the visiting wizards. They were in fact their first guests.

The Wizard Goes into Orbit
The third and final act of the wizards' Day of Rage was made possible by Mark Stevens, a computer wizard (a lesser rank than university, city, or national wizard, but worthy of respect). Mark had prepared a computer terminal in one of the luxurious hotel rooms.

After suitable incantations and surrounded by wide-eyed junior colleagues (and with our old friends the Duke and Duchess of Wellington gracing us with their presence) I pressed a certain key on the keyboard. Lo and Behold a message went out at the speed of light throughout the world wide web announcing "The Wizard is Coming". I had joined the great web of consciousness, The Internet. I hoped that I might find other wizards awaiting my call to "come out".

Mt Cook HQ Bombarded with Tiny Wizards
The Great Conclave was over. The visiting wizards had gone home tired but with happy memories (apart from the unfortunate rugby game fiasco). Alas there was no sign of any change in the flinty heart of the Mt Cook Manager. It was obvious that some more "funpowder" was needed.

With the invaluable assistance of Alfs Imperial Army Artillery Company, under the rather excitable Captain Cordite, and a small procession of the banner-bearing amateur monastics, we set up a cannon facing the Mt Cook HQ across Riccarton Road.

Seven miniature wizards, each bearing the mana of a powerful wizard, were fired across the busy road to strike the building. The last wizard carried a small explosive charge.

Eurotrash in NZ to Film The Wizard
Shortly after this a crew from the disgusting, rather weird, but very popular, British TV programme "Eurotrash", made their first visit to Australasia. They were mainly filming in Australia for their final "Down Under" show of the season. They only wanted one segment from New Zealand and had chosen me as the only character here interesting enough to be worth filming.

I took advantage of the fact that the show was watched by millions of people in Europe to invite them to film my next attack on the Mt Cook HQ. This time we recruited Captain Cordite's latest weapon, a replica tank, to transport five wizards, complete with pointy hats, through town to the target building. This provided very dramatic footage with the silhouetted black tank speeding through the streets with five wizards perched on the turret.

The rather ironic commentary, added later, explained to the watching multitudes that the wizards were "at war with evil multinational, Mt Cook Group". On arrival we gathered in a ring around our staffs, which had regained their powers, and, after a few stately circlings, each wizard uttered an anathema, as he did so his pointy hat exploded.

The programme also showed the wizards gathered round a computer terminal in a Christchurch cybercafe looking at my new home page and listening awestruck to my plans for world domination which include high jacking the internet.

I Send In My Bill
Throughout all these beautiful and dramatic fun-revolutionary attacks Mr Clark had maintained a glacial indifference. It was time to to speak to him in a language he could understand. Money!

I have an old and trusted legal friend, Richard Niven, who has helped me on other occasions in the past to avoid "being ground down by the bastards". He is well acquainted with the law relating to copyright and intellectual property and made sure the company was presented with a fair account for services rendered.

Five per cent of the advertising budget, is the minimum fee for anyone, famous or not, whose image or name is used to promote a product or a service.

In the absence of inside information we estimated this amounted to about twenty-five thousand New Zealand dollars.

My learned friend also added an additional sum of five thousand dollars as a penalty for failing to secure my consent. As a wise precaution against delaying tactics he added a reminder that current Bank of NZ overdraft rates would be charged on all accounts remaining unpaid.

By yet another magical coincidence his account on my behalf was rendered on my birthday (4th December 1995) which added to my annual joy. I am looking forward to many happy returns, but so far they have not been forthcoming.

Continue on to Part The Fifth...


Other examples of post-modern wizardry can be found on the Wizard's Home Page.