The Running Men (and Women)

Four score and seven minutes to go. The Prologue battered to death: arms aching, catch your breath. The trial cracked: tableaus practiced, arms behind backs. Tango dancing and evil leers, no reason for anybody's fears. Then, the run. Two straight hours and some. Down the pub, then to Venus - where we met a woman shaped like a ...

The Trust try to work out who's late.
Morris dancing's alive and well at the Kelvin studios.
Two-gun Gara glowers evily in the background with red, red eyes, and pink, pink sweater.