My Unicorn Won’t Come Back, with apologies to Charlie Drake

Oom, yacka, wurka
Oom, yacka, wurka
Oom, yacka, wurka

In the bad backlands of Australia
Many years ago,
The dark spirits were meeting,
Having a big pow-wow.

Oom-yacka-wurka
Oom-yacka-wurka

“We got a lot of trouble, Mate,
On account of your recalcitrance.”
“My recalcitrance? Why, what’s wrong with him?”

Smartphone:  your unicorn won’t come back.
“My unicorn won’t come back?”

Smartphone: your unicorn won’t come back,

My unicorn won’t come back,
I’ve chased the thing all over the place,
Practised till I was blue in the face,
I’m a big disgrace to the metrosexual race,
My unicorn won’t come back.

The smartphone banished him from the tribe then
And sent him on his way.

Metrosexual: This is nice, innit? Getting banished at my time of life. What a way to spend an evening: sitting on a rock in the middle of the burbs with me smartphone in me hand. I shall very likely get bushwhacked.

(An animal roars; he shrieks back.)

Metrosexual: Get out of it! You nasty bushwhacking animal. Think I’ll make a nice macchiato. (Doing, doing, doing…). Good gracious! There goes a unicorn. I must have a practice with me smartphone: hit it right behind the left earhole. Now then, slowly back.

Gruff voice: If you point that thing at me, I’ll jump right on your head. (It chuckles and flounces away.)

Metrosexual: Innit marvellous? Got a land full of unicorns and I had to pick that one.

For three long hours he sat there
Or maybe it was four. Then an old old woman in a unicorn skin
Came a-knocking at his door.

“Well, I’m the local witch doctor, son,
Now tell me, what’s your trouble, boy?”

Metrosexual: My unicorn won’t come back.
“Your unicorn won’t come back?”

My unicorn won’t come back,
I’ve chased the thing all over the place,
Practised till I was blue in the face,
I’m a big disgrace to the metrosexual race,

“Don’t worry, boy, I know the trick,
And to you I’m gonna show it.
If you want your unicorn to come back,
Well first you’ve got to… talk to it.”

Metrosexual: Ooh, yes! Never thought of that. Must have a go, nyuh-huh! Excuse me.
Now then, slowly back… and press the green button.

(Photons and electrons whizz away; Sounds of a Marquis de Sade quote approaching.)

Metrosexual: Ooh my God! I’ve hit the wrong button. Eee-hee-hee! Can you do first aid?

Witch Doctor: Don’t talk to me about first aid, boy, you owe me fourteen chickens, you know, when
I learned you to talk to the Unicorn, you know, first things first.

Metrosexual: Yes, I know that, but I mean, I think on this occasion, you know, you could be a bit more perspective……….