Friday, July 08, 2011

A Badtime Story

Once upon a time, in a land not so far away from here, but with very different ideas of morality and appropriate behaviour, there was a greedy old man they called The Digger. The Digger was so greedy that he wanted to own the whole Sky! But part of the Sky was under the control of a King called David who lived across the sea. So The Digger sent his son and a flame-haired witch to see if he could persuade the King to let him have it all.

King David was a jolly, pasty faced chap, a bit wet and flabby and terribly naive. He was very rich and privileged and he had no idea how his subjects lived and cared even less. Or, at least, that's the way he appeared because he made the rich barons richer and took money away from the poor and from those who were most needed to care for the sick and elderly. He even made the children pay to learn things! He wasn't a bad man really but he was rubbish at being the boss of his land. All the silly King wanted to do was go to lots of posh parties and meet famous people. The Digger's son soon became King David's friend. And the flame-haired witch said lovely things about him. Soon King David thought they were brilliant!

But some of the King's advisors didn't like the greedy man's son and the flame-haired witch and told the King that he should take a care when dealing with them. They knew that although they seemed to be very nice, they actually wrote nasty things about people in a scurrilous pamphlet that was read by people all over the land. Well, by those who could afford to learn to read that is. But King David waved them away saying, 'Pish and tish! (for those were their names) They are lovely people and very trustworthy. They must be because they told me they are. I will hear nothing bad about my lovely trustworthy friends.' And away he skipped singing lah-di-da and with his fingers in his dainty ears.

But Oh! Dear readers! If only he'd listened to his advisors! Little did silly King David know it but there was a wicked trickster in his castle! The trickster looked like a nice man with his sensible hair and sensible glasses but he was a clever and wicked man. He knew how to bend words and spin stories and twist truths. And he was a friend of the greedy son and the flame-haired witch! In fact, he and the flame-haired witch had both once been in charge of the scurrilous pamphlet that broke promises and told stories and even sometimes told wicked lies about people! And now the trickster was best friends with the silly king ... who knew what secrets he might have been told?

Time passed and silly King David continued his unpopular reign. All around him his kingdom was collapsing but he hardly noticed. He was too buy having fun with his big society friends. And, in time, his ego became so bloated from people telling him he was ace that he began to think that it might be nice to let the greedy old Digger have his bit of Sky. After all, what possible harm could it do to let a little old man own it all?

But then, one day, a Guardian discovered that some spies had been secretly listening to people talking and then sharing what they'd heard in the scurrilous pamphlet! Oh yes, they had sneakily pushed their noses into places where they should never have been. The spies had done terrible, terrible things and when the people found out, they were livid! They were furious! They called the snoopers terrible names and they grabbed their pitchforks and torches and marched to the hut where the scurrilous pamphlet was made. They chased everyone out and the hut collapsed and was burned to the ground. How the people cheered as everyone who worked there, the honest cooks and the picture makers, the hard-working cleaners, the printers and the wordsmiths were all thrown into the street with no jobs and no money, even though they weren't the ones who'd done any snooping. Nor had they written any of the nasty words. But the mob didn't care/ as far as they were concerendd, if you were in the hut, you were guilty.

The people went home, satisfied that their work was done. And up in the castle, the trickster, the flame-haired witch and the greedy son all drank champagne from diamond bra cups and laughed and laughed until they sicked up their caviar and swan terrine. And why were they laughing so hard? Because the silly people had got angry with the wrong people and now the real baddies had got away scot free! They knew they would never be caught. The local constable wouldn't stop them because they'd given him lots of pies. The King was too divorced from reality to see what they were up to. Even the Frumious Miliband was too dim-witted to do anything other than whinge a bit. They laughed long and loud into the night.

And so they all lived happily and unbelievably richly ever after. The greedy old Digger bought the Sky and made sure no one else could use it but him. King David carried on being a much derided leader but he didn't give a beaver's tits because he was rich. The flame-haired witch and the greedy son went across the sea to the Land of the Free to fuck up their freedoms too. And the trickster wriggled away and was never seen again.

The people stopped caring too. They no longer had to work because King David gave all the shops to Baron Tesco who filled them with two-for-one factory bred chickens, cheap booze and lasagne sandwiches. Oh, and a brand new scurrilous pamphlet with a different name. And the people said 'Hallelujah!' but couldn't spell it.

The (Bitter) End


StLouisMan2 said...

So very well done and yet, so thinly veiled!

StLouisMan2 said...

Sorry. I made a mistake in my "1st" Comment. Sorry.