Monday 9 January 2012

Busy Fingers

Dear me. O tempus, O mores. What on earth is the world coming to? This Cat can only wonder at the folly of the human species: I heard this from my mate Lareow - the Chief Rodent Environment Officer of the Caedmeron household - my primary source of gossip and titbits of valuable inside information. And he should know - he's close to the action, which makes him a reliable witness. And he's - more importantly - a Cat, like Yours Truly, so his integrity and the reliability of his account is beyond question. Or at least, I think so..

The celebrity chef Guffmund the Brown - author of famous works like 'Redistributionist Cookery For Pleasure And Profit' and 'Cooking Up A Crisis', and darling of the soothsayers Beeby See and Guardy-Ann - has been accused of stealing the treasury cash from the Northumbrian Kingdom. Several times. Honest.

In a moment of weakness - or so his story goes - he was observed to have plundered the Treasure Chest of several billion holy groats to spend on a project to augment his wine and cheese larder. As if he already didn't have enough groats of his own to subsidise his pantry.. but times are hard, so they say. When needs must, the devil drives - and drive, he did.

Naturally, the Costumed Thugs were brought in to diligently carry out their investigations. Edweird the Milliner, the Revered And Heavenly Leader of the Redistributionist Faction - ever with an eye to an opportunity - called for a Public Enquiry (at taxpayers' expense, of course) to be staffed exclusively by Redistributionist politicos, who are the only ones (in his colouring book) deemed capable of sound and objective judgement. Whatever.

The surprising outcome of the Costumed Thug investigation is that this distinguished tosser of pancakes and burnisher of broth should be released from custody with a caution. His illustrious career as a former bankrupter and Redistributionist First Minister of the Northumbrian Kingdom lies sunk without trace in tatters in a smouldering ruin. His political future shows every prospect of glory and honour.

Naturally, the least any ordinary Northumbrian citizen could expect for a similar offense (given the opportunity to commit it) would be a lifetime of imprisonment in the loving chains of an oubliette somewhere. Others not so blessed with such mercy would be executed, and their heads would be used as gargoyles to decorate the city gates, to welcome visitors, and to attract Viking tourists who love that kind of thing.

But the leniency of Guffo's treatment by the system is a direct result of the Redistributionists' obsession with a just and a fair Northumbria. Just for them, that is...

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