Tuesday, 8 May 2012
A Frank Exchange
The beautiful Kingdom of the Franks has been the subject of the latest obsessions by the beloved soothsayers, since this weekend was one of those rare occasions when the delightfully idiosyncratic Frankish people select from their number their equally eccentric King. Like the long-suffering people of the Kingdoms of Northumbria, Wessex, Mercia and the East Saxons, the Franks - fellow labourers under the burdensome and tedious yoke of the Holy Roman Empire (which is neither holy, Roman nor an empire) - have had more than their fair share of woes, cares and fishpaste. Like every other kingdom on the earth, the Frankish Realm is also a blessed inheritor of the blights of bankruptcy, fathomless debt, impoverishment and business, and under the sacred guidance of their previous King - Le Roi Sarcus - they were exhorted to suffer deprivation as Brutally Savage Public Expenditure Cuts were introduced in an attempt to frustrate the inexorable creep of debt.
However, the Franks are not a people to tolerate fools gladly, and seldom did a minute pass without some ruction or other breaking out somewhere in the Royaume by some disgruntled sector of the populace or other in protest at the severe strictures placed upon them by their political overlords. With a Gallic shrug and an expressive pout, the diminutive Sarcus gently reminded his subjects (lovingly assisted by costumed thugs and other armed gangs) that they're all in this (dogjob, do-do and business) together, and nothing further can be done but put up with the pain. Again. Such assurances as this did little to assuage the growing discontent of the Franks, who perceived that their Great King was a close buddy-pal and associate of the Westphalian Empress Murk, and the pair of them were often seen to be attending overblown Holy Roman Empire banquets, where they were able to feast on the finest gastronomic luxuries and exchange their favourite recipes.
However, to the hysterical delight of Beeby See, Guardy-Ann and the Windy Pedant, the Franks have decided that Le Roi Sarcus is not to be their King any more: they've elected - after a decisive victory decided by three votes - to elect a Redistributionist King, Frankus of Holland. This new Netherlandish monarch already has defined the path that his people should take, and has already decided that the emphasis in his reign should not be directed towards sacrifice, deprivation and loss, but rather economic growth. Since one of King Sarcus' ministers - on inheriting his role as Treasurer from his predecessor - discovered a piece of vellum containing the words "Desolé - il n'y a plus d'argent! Bon chance, mon brave", one wonders where the money to fund these grandiose plans for growth is going to come from.
I suspect that the new King has a ready store of magic mushrooms to shore up his illusionary economics; the Franks - being very passionate about food - are very fond of fungus...