Tuesday, 29 July 2014
What I'm about to tell you is on complete confidence - please don't pass this on to anyone else. You won't believe this - in fact I haven't even told my master Caedmon, since I know he'd merely dismiss this as being a feline flight of fancy. It isn't.
The other night, I was on my customary evening patrol of my territory around the lovely Northumbrian settlement of Streonaeshalh. It was a quiet night, punctuated by the occasional callings of my nocturnal avian friend and fellow hunter, Doctor Hoo and his associates.
In the darkness I reached a field adjacent to some woods nearby, and was about to cross it when my attention was drawn by a strange and unfamiliar whirring sound. When I looked in the direction of the noise, I saw a strange object in the middle of the field; it was larger than a house, but was of a shape reminiscent of an enormous soup plate. This unusual structure emitted a series of pulsating lights.
Mesmerised, I watched as a door opened in the object, and two figures emerged into the doorway, lit up by the blinking luminescence. The figures looked vaguely human, and as I approached in my usual feline curiosity, I saw that both figures looked identical to the Redistributionist Grand Mufti, Edweird the Milliner.
I greeted them, and they approached me to investigate. I asked them who they were, and where they had come from, and one of them replied that were celestial rangers; they'd travelled the expanse of the skies from a faraway world called Redistributia, and they were on a routine visit to our world.
When I asked them the purpose of their visit, they told me that they had come to relieve Edweird the Milliner of his shift, and to replace him with another of their kind, thus enabling Eddy to return to his home for some rest and recuperation.
I asked them if they could also please replace Dagwald Caedmeron - the Cupcake-In-Chief of the Tree Faction. They told me that training was already in progress, and his successor would be arriving soon...
Wednesday, 23 July 2014
Your Cat has awakened from his customary slumbers to announce that Edweird the Milliner has taken an interval from his astonishing victories; taking the Golden Opportunity of a lifetime, he's taken a ride on a barque, sailing to the distant shores of the as yet undiscovered land of Ultima Thule. How exciting!
Surrounded by an entourage of sycophants, elephants and assorted hangers-on, Eddy - the as yet undiscovered leader and Great Expectation of the Redistributionist Faction - has paid a courtesy visit to Bugrake O'Barmy, the as yet undiscovered High Chieftain of the aforesaid kingdom. All at the expense of the Northumbrian taxpayer, you'll understand.
The primary purpose for the Great Leader's outing is so that he can present himself before his adoring acolytes as a Great Statesman and potential Once And Future Principal of the Northumbrian Kingdom. However, such overweening ambition and delusion is fed by a constant diet of flattery, flatulence and a continual and industrial quantity of the Sacred Mushrooms, which empower the imaginations of their feckless consumers and carry the enraptured mind into states of glittering and unreflective bliss.
The secondary reason for the visit is so that Eddy can sit in dumbstruck reverence at the feet of the Grand Master, in the eager expectation of catching some of the morsels of holy doctrine that drip from his mellifluous chops. He's particularly interested to discover how Bugrake O'Barmy has managed to maintain his spellbinding power over his warlike clans, and how he rules over them without actually taking any constructive decisions. He also wants to learn the secret of Bugrake's phenomenal command of rhetoric, rhubarb and oratory - qualities which are conspicuously absent from the Milliner's otherwise awesome arsenal.
The Ultima Thule Chieftain will doubtless have been delighted to take a few hours of his time to spend in the presence of the Prince of Obscurity to chew the fat with him. I wonder if he'll have remembered Eddy's name - or where he came from?
Tuesday, 1 July 2014
Having inspired the Northumbrian football team and their mascot Wade Rune to lose the coveted Holy Roman Empire Cup and to return to their native shores to a rapturous welcome, Dagwald Caedmeron - the Loved and Revered Tosspot and Despot of the Tree/Liberationist Alliance Administration - has been fighting and losing battles of his own: not within the football fields of Ultima Thule, but rather within the hallowed halls and courts of the aforesaid Empire (which is neither holy, Roman nor an empire).
The bone of contention has been the appointment of the new Emperor and disappointment of the present Monarch, His Holiness Emperor Jose Borracho. The new Caesar-in-waiting is a hitherto unknown council warrior called Claudius Junkbond - a deeply loved and popular unknown among his immediate circle of lackeys.
It would appear that the new chieftain-elect - whose appointment (strangely) doesn't happen to rest upon the electoral support of the hordes of loyal tribes, clans and kingdoms - has a penchant for the finest wines of the Empire. At all times of the day. And night. Every day. All, of course, at the expense of the Holy Roman Empire taxpayer, who is too preoccupied with his survival as well as the latest football results from the soothsayers and other assorted rumour-millers. This is a golden opportunity for him to pass from obscurity to complete oblivion. In luxury and biscuit.
It isn't that Caddy bears any personal antipathy towards the new Emperor-elect, however; he's seized on a vital opportunity to curry favour with his disenchanted disciples back at home, who are rapidly deserting his teachings in favour of the anti-Empire rebel, the plain-speaking, mead-quaffing Nickwald the Forager. The logic is that if Caddy Boy is observed to make a valiant stand against the appointment, he will be perceived to be a Principled Princess of the People, and this will successfully woo hearts and minds.
Success is guaranteed... isn't it..?