The Salvation of the Masses
And so it came to pass that the people of the country were bound together by their abhorration of the sins of The One. Little by little they began to plot, and organise.
And yez, the fated day came - four million good men, strong and true, went forth from their homes to put an end to the madness of The One.
Lo! The walls of the dark citadel fell beneath the might of the people. The dark servants of The One were useless, stricken down by the purity of those who would depose their master.
And in the throne room, The One sat still and calm as the door broke down and the people stormed into the room. The evil tormentor stood up, her foul blade screaming a black curse on the righteous. Scratched on the metal were arcane runes showing the true name of it's wielder - Dawn French. Her free hand raised the chocolate orange aloft, and she began the incantation - "It's not Terry's, it's maaaarrrggghhhh...". Her voice trailed off as her head left her shoulders.
"No more must our ears suffer the incantation of the damned!" roared the decapitater of The One, as he crushed her head beneath his boot.
And as the actions of this man earned their rightful place in history, there was much feasting and rejoicing in the land.