Brian the Wise stunned Queeblers and Scribes alike when He strolled down the red carpet in Sydney for the premiere-eth of We Will Dack Thee with His magnificent ORB DISPLAY.

Amazingly, those walking behind the Wise God could actually 'see-eth' the Orbs emitting from His Holy Arse!

Brian the Wise wert interviewed by intrepid scribe Sir Cliffus Richard about His incredible and seemingly, new, ability. Trailing behind Sir Cliffus wert an inexperienced trainee scribe who seemeth to be 'high' on the orbital aroma. John the Mysterious wert trying desperately not to breathe at all and seemed unimpressed by the whole display.

Sir Cliffus: Brian the Wise, Thou seem to haveth this amazing ability to blow Orbs out Thine arse! Thee notice there art some who art shocked and disgusted by the whole process, whilst others seemeth to consider it an astral phenomenon and appear to be-eth almost drugged by the effects! Wouldst Thou care to explain-eth this strange occurance and telleth unto us why doth Thou choose the Antipodes to unveil Thou Orb Producing Arse?

Brian the Wise: Er, one moment please, Sir Cliffus....

Brian the Wise: Excuseth Thee whilst Thee droppeth a few orbs for-eth the cameras.

Brian The Wise: Ah, hereth come the orbs...hopeth Thee doeth not crap Thy pants....

Girl: Oh Thy Holy Gods! That wert a wet one!....

Brian the Wise: Why yea, Sir Cliffus! Thee wouldst be-eth absolutely delighted! Thee findst if Thy eat brown onions Thee produceth the most orbs, shallots and salad onions do-eth not seem to do-eth the trick at all really. Why didst Thee chooseth the Anitpodes to unveil the mystery of the Orbs? Well, it art a Penal Colony, art it not? Thee decideth to showeth the Anitpodians that they shouldst thusly shut-eth up and be-eth satisfied if Thee decideth to bloweth Orbs out Thine Holy Arse at them. In fact, they shouldeth thusly be-eth humbled by the experience!

Sir Cliffus: But the majority of the multitudes seemeth quite sickened by the aroma. This poor girl art almost choking! Thou must admit-eth, the smell art quite dreadful!

Brian the Wise: Nay, they doeth not smell, Thee knoweth not what she art on about...

Brian the Wise: If thoust look closely, thee will see-eth the quality and detail in each and every-eth Orb. Yea, it art amazing! A couple of raw brown onions and looketh at the quality of the orbs Thou hath produced...

Sir Cliffus: Thee notice that trainee scribe seem-eth to be-eth up to her neck in Orb Aroma and canst get enough of it, whilst Roger the Divine art nowhere to be-eth seen and Ben of Eltonia art running off at breakneck speed!

Brian the Wise: Nay! That art not true! Ben and Roger haveth hot curry for lunch!

Brian the Wise: Thee canst even play-eth a tune! Hark! As Thee squeezeth out the tiny orbs Thee maketh music!

Sir Cliffus: Very impressive Brian the Wise, but honestly, the smell is a bit rough!

Brian the Wise: What utter-eth rubbish! Thee art a God! Thee doeth not produceth odours!

Sir Cliffus: Aw, c'mon Brian the Wise! The air art so-eth thick out here thou couldst cut it with a knife!

Brian the Wise: Thou complete tosser! Thee kneweth thou wert not hearkening unto Thy words! Thou scribes art all the same! Thee can see Thee art going to haveth to train Thy own scribes so the multitudes can read-eth the truth. Thee - Sir Cliffus - art obviously employed by some trashy tabloid-eth that art nay more than fish-eth and chip-eth paper! I, Brian the Wise, shalt, from this day forward, train-eth Thy own scribes and printeth Thy own tabloid! And Thee - Sir Cliffus - canst burn in Hell ! Ha ha!

Sir Cliffus: Well, Up Thous !

Brian the Wise: Young trainee scribe! Come-eth here at once! Thou willst train under Thy Holy Guidance at the Brian the Wise School Of Knowledge and I, Brian the Wise, willst teacheth unto thee, the art of Hearkening Unto Thy Words and thou willst scribe for Brian the Wise's own Tabloid-eth! What art thy name, oh trainee scribe?

Trainee Scribe: Oh Heavenly Holy Father, God of All Things Wise, Brian the Wise Sir, thy nameth be Bobsled Hire Fun.

Brian the Wise: What?

Trainee Scribe: Ah, sorry be-eth unto Thee Oh Fatherly Heaven Sir Wise, thee art humbled and thee art not worthy. Thy name art Bribed Fe Lush On.

Brian the Wise: What?

Trainee Scribe: Oh Heavenly Wise Dog, er God, forgiveth thee for thee can nay stringeth two words together in Thine Holy Presence! Thy name art Sobbed Fee Hurl In, er thee meaneth, Sobbed He Furl In, nay, nay, sorry-eth, thee name art Bobsled Fire Hun, nay! It art....

Brian the Wise: Bobsled art a funny-eth name-eth for a girl, but however-eth, Bobsled it shall be-eth. Thou shalt learneth much under Thy Holy Bat Wing and ne'er again shall a bad word be printed about Thee! Come thither yonder and Thee shalt inspire thee!

Bobsled: Thanks be-eth unto Thee Heavenly Dog, er Holy Poodle, oh, Holy Heavenly God Of All....

Brian the Wise: Shut-eth up!

Bobsled: Yes Sir.