"So - what went wrong this time?"

"Crap song."

"But I thought everyone loved Chiara."

"Obviously not."

"I thought it was a sure-fire winner."

"Never mind. So the question is... where do we go from here?"

"Don't these people... these so-called judges realise how vitally important the Eurovision Song Contest is to the health, wellbeing and survival of life as we know it, here in Malta?"

"Hear, hear!"

"Absolutely."

"Obviously not. And we as the ESC autopsy committee have to come up with answers, or the minister is going to cop it big time."

"Well, at least we didn't place bottom."

"So that's the pinnacle of our aspirations is it? The fact that we didn't come bottom."

"By the way, whatever happened to Fabrizio Whatsit... the guy who did come bottom, way back in... whenever?"

"We gave him the choice of execution by firing squad or exile on Filfla with just 10 records... all of which were of Mary Spiteri singing Little Brat."

"I take it he opted for the firing squad?"

"Wouldn't you?"

"You know what this means don't you?"

"What?"

"Questions in Parliament. Resignations all round, possible suicides among the proletariat, Grace chaining herself to the railings at Castille. Need I go on?"

"A terrible prospect."

"Oh I expect she'd wear clothes."

"Even so."

"And all because we are desperate to win a naff song contest."

"That the rest of Europe and beyond treats as a bad joke."

"Wait a minute. I'm sorry but - don't you think you are being, well just a little bit patronising here?"

"Not really no, it's rubbish and everybody knows it."

"What about Ċetta from Bormla?"

"What about her?"

"It's not rubbish to Ċetta, it's life and death. When Malta came last she went into full mourning for six whole months."

"Some people say she's still in mourning."

"So what are you proposing we do... to assuage Ċetta's grief?"

"Withdraw, pull out of the whole sorry, stupid charade?"

(An audible gasp of disbelief emitted from the rest of the committee)

"You can't mean that."

"Shame!"

"Philistine!"

"How dare you!"

"Go wash your mouth out with strong disinfectant."

"What an appalling thing to suggest!"

"No, really, I'm serious. We all know the Eurovision Song Contest is a farce. The voting - even with the limited participation of a judging panel - has absolutely nothing whatever to do with the quality of the song or the expertise of the interpreters. It is totally rigged in favour of neighbouring or allied countries; so why continue to support and nurture this ludicrous charade? Italy saw the light and pulled out years ago. I think it's high time we did the same."

(There is a prolonged hush in the room. Some committee members are seen to be aghast and in a state of shock, others weep silently. One has the courage to speak out.)

"Grace, forgive him, for he knows not what he says."

"I thought Grace was no longer anything to do with Eurovision."

"Not directly maybe; but she is still our spiritual leader."

"So... forgive me if I'm wrong but... You are suggesting that we not only ignore the fact that for the past - oh several years, we have fared pathetically in Eurovision, we simply bumble along continuing to... at best, finish last or at worst fail to qualify at all?"

"Do you have any better ideas?"

"Yes, pull out now and save what little face we have left to save. We are surely the only people in Europe who still take this nonsense seriously"

"You are forgetting the Brits. This year they even hired Sir Andrew Lloyd Webber to write their song."

"And a fat lot of good it did them. Let's have a vote on it. Pull out now... or stay and endure further Eurovision humiliation for the foreseeable future. All those in favour of pulling out."

(Only one hand is raised... that of the proposer)

"All those against?"

(Everybody else's hands are raised)

"I see, I see. So that's it, is it? Never mind the annual national humiliation. Forget the fact that Ċetta's in mourning. Viva Eurovision and to hell with everything else!"

"So we're all... well nearly all agreed that our report will tell the minister we were unlucky again and it's better luck next time, right? All those in favour raise their hands... Carried!"