Somewhere in Yorkshire

Any resemblance to real persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.

A story of everyday Tory folk.

Somewhere in Yorkshire, at a plush office, a group of young men in suits are huddled; discussing more ways of stealing from the poor to give to the rich. Enter Dave Phillips, ” Hi guys, I’ve just been meeting with a few of the unwashed and somewhat slightly dazed at a Minned Centre and they’ve given me the most amazing idea”. A hush descends as the sycophantic group gather round their esteemed leader, “eeew” says one, “don’t you need a shower?”, they look at each other in total surprise as he replies “that can wait! you have to hear what they had to say first, it’s pure gold, Camoron will love me for it!”. They look adoringly from him to the picture of Camoron Divide on the wall and back to him again.

“Apparently these oiks can’t work, every time they apply for a job they get turned down because of their ‘problems’, something to do with their thought processes or something, you can tell they’re not right they lean to the left and don’t like what we do.” A chorus of head shaking and tuts greet his statement.

“But Sir… you said they’d had a great idea”, the minion look puzzled.  “No, you fool, they gave ME an idea, you know that we’ve been trying to find a way to produce goods that are as cheap as Primarni get from the sub continent?”. “Yes” they chorused.  “Well I think these people and there are literally hundreds of thousands of them, would love to work for sixpence an hour just to have jobs. So I’m going to tell all the chaps down in the smoke that if we can just change the law a tiny bit, they can all have cheap labour, we’ll all be so much richer and won’t that be great and to cap it all I’ll look so philanthropic that everyone will love me!”

Great shouts of “Huzzah” ensued as Champagne corks filled the air and Dave Phillips was hoisted shoulder high through the town.

A few days later…..

Dave Phillips returns from the smoke, downcast and disheveled …

There was silence as he sat at his computer and accessed his Titter account. He groaned, sighed and then screamed at the screen…. “It’s a conspiracy, a Marxist conspiracy, how can they do this to me. ” He pulled the plug on his computer and turned to his minions. “Those people at Minned have twisted my idea and made me look bad to Camoron, they’ve ruined my plan. What right do they have to pretend stand up for these people, depriving them of work. They’re the villains, I only wanted what was best and I made it look as if it was for their good, how can  Minned claim to know what these people want better than I do?”

A glint appeared in his eye, “I’ve learned something though, apparently it’s not just these Minned people that can’t get jobs, there’s thousands more out there who are different and would jump at the chance to work long hours for a pittance now that Camoron has taken away all their money. Oh yes, they’ll come begging us for jobs once we’re finished with them…………. I’ll be back!”

That was a cautionary tale for all those that don’t believe in Ogres and Trolls… they exist and they are out to get US!

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2 responses to “Somewhere in Yorkshire

  1. Pingback: The Week in Mentalists – The Waiting for a Heatwave Edition « This Week in Mentalists

  2. Logged in after you tipped us the wink in your presentations in Liverpool today. I don’t know if you’re aware (…) , but this story bears an uncanny resemblance to a parliamentary event that happened recently. On 12 July, the Mirror apologised (p.18) to the parliamentarian it had slighted, however, for mocking what he undoubtedly refers to as “the afflicted”.

    No apology from the MP, meanwhile.

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