A group of writers in Chichester coming together once a month for inspiration, collaboration and sensation
Introduction: Part satire, part farce, part political commentary. No offense intended to any figures mentioned except the Scottish Tories and Lib Dems. Most Scots used here is modern Scots heard in the streets except where it seemed relevant to use a broader or older Scots.
‘E roughly ran his haund ower ‘is wrist which he felt tae be tightenin’.
“Ma richt, honourable freens”… ‘E needed tae wipe sweat fae ‘is forehead.
Nicola Sturgeon nudged ‘im . “Gaun,tell thum aw”.
“Ma richt honourable freens we seem tae huv a wee bit e an issue…em.. there’s nivir an easy wiey tae say it” .‘E stoaped speakin’.
The Scottish Tories whae wir expairts it kiddin’ thumsels oan(Hence the pairties very existence) could see where he wis gaun wi it. “Ye’ve spent aw the annual budget huvn’t ye!”.
There wis fair a rammie in the chamber. The muckle ignored Independent candidate Margo Macdonald chipped in. “Ye’ve gone an flushed the taxpieyers money doon the cludgie. Pished awiey poonds on a ploy fer profit an in the process rocht up Auld Reekie”.The Salmond speakit,” Aye, weill ah widnae pit it like that,..bit eh, jist a bit.”
“Whit ure we gaunae dae? In aw this diggin’ an like , it’ll be lowsin a lote e fumes and Eyle intae the Eirth’, the Scottish Greens remarked, wi mony ‘fair dos’ fae thaise assembled.
“Yez Greens uve gote yer heids screwed oan wrang,” said the Scottish Tories as thur hiveheid drifted tae thotes e 5 story hotels doon the coogate.
The Tory Hydra bit it’s nails an interjectit: “Whit aboot this… Antartica. Nice wee bit e real estate thaire. We could huv a colony.”
Margo and the SSP deeked wan anither an shouted: “ NAE MAIRE GOES IT COLONIES YE BUNCH E DICKS!” An booted the chimeric cthulu in its collage of fuds an baws.
Anywieys thir is an actual plot tae this story.
The Scottish Lib Dems, eftir scratchin’ their heids an nearly causin’ Arthur’s Seat tae be aflame again remarkit: “ We ken…we’ll git thaim folk in.. whits that one in that book cawed?” said a Lib Dem heid yin.
“‘E’s in a book?” came another.
“Aye… Ummm.. whits it cawed? Nae pictures..bit fantastic.”
“Iraq War Dossier?” Trunnell’d oot the lips e the Scottish Socialist Chiel.
“Naw…eh..aw aye.It’s the bible,” said the Scottish Lib Dem leader.
“Nou if we gie thaim a phone mibye they kin help.”
“Aye, braw idea!” Awmaist everybody cried oot.
“Ah’ll phone thaim,” said the Lib Dem leader whae promptly went tae the bog haudin ‘is paper circlin’ 2nd hames tae claim oan expenses.
Margo hud jist gote diagnosed. That wis playin’ oan her mind an makin her no suffer eejits gleadly. As well iz that ..weill the ither MSP’s wir fu e wind an pish. She wis laith tae gie these issues anymaire thin her eident attent.
“Awright ye big bunch e fannies,ah’ll phone!” said Margo as she flipped oot her decrepit auld phone – decrepit in being last years an no boucht wi RBS bailout money.
Scottish Labour keeked oan, drinkin’ Pinot fae auld miner’s hats.
“Ah hello. Iz that Jesus an aw that?”
“Awright. Naw Jesus isnae here bit ah’m pairt e the crew. They caw me Lao, how can ah help yez?”
“Well Mr Lao, we need yer help. These glaikit basturts huv yaised up aw their money oan a stupit tram system thits blootered Edinbruhs braw environs.”
“Aw, ah see… Wu Wei, Wu Wei.”
“Sorry, it’s hard tae hear yi wi that polis siren gaun aff in the backgrund.”
“Naw! Ye dinnae git it.WU WEI! WU WEI! “
“Yer needin’ a wee? Gaun git a pish then mon ower.”
“Listen tae me Lao. Ah dey care if yer needin’ a pish or tae shite oot a torpedo like a trident submarine, mon ower fast as fuck. If yez dinnae hurry up they’ll be oan the phone tae RBS an aw the richt coof quicker thin ye kin say ‘ConDem.Uk’, Capiche?”
Needliss tae say,they were aw ower pretty sharpish.
In trauchled the crew. Thir wis Jesus, Buddha, Confucius, Lao, Muhammad an Lara Croft.
Margo Macdonald greeted them aw an they sat doon.
“Guid tae see ye finally saw sense Lao,” she said.
“Naw, ah’m ainly here fer the free grub likes, Wu Wei bitch.”
Margo frowned. “Fer Christ(Sorry J) sake,git a haud e yer sel.” An she gied him a skelp on the lug.
“Wis that saire bawbag?”
“Naw.CYe see the ow isnae the real ow.CYe canne spraff aboot the real ow.”
Margo clenched her first ready tae belt him one richt in the napper.
“Bit aye. Ah’m done. Wu Wei dusnae mean no daein nuhin. Jist bein’ spontaneous man. Ah wis ainly huvin ye oan..weill that an ah’m jist owerly contradictory by nature.”
“Nae maire e this. Mon .Yez urnae Dunbar and Kennedy yez ken.”
Buddha looked detachit an takin’ aw this in his stride.
Confucius say: “Gie a man a fish an feed ‘im fer a day, teach a man tae fish an feed him till he gaws in the grund.” Buddha wis tuckin’ intae cake.
Margo retorted: “Is that you gittin it us?”
“Wee factoid pal. We micht be bad but e’en Dave’s biggit his country oan a hoose e scones an he’s pilin’ the pressure oan thaise wi urnae sae jammy.”
Confucius: “Dave. Whae is this dave.Are ye dave?”
Lara Croft: “Dinnae fash yersel. He’s gote confucid again. No tae mention he’s a bit oot his tree. Tea fair goes tae his heid likes.”
Buddha wis munchin’ an said: “Ah love cake.”
“Aye we ken, ye roan the fast track tae the cardiac unit ah hink ye need tae gie it a rest,”said Lao.
“Where’s Muhammad?” Margo asked.
Jesus, shooglin his heid replied: “It’s an awfie dire situation.Basically immigration stoapped ‘him cause he’s middle eastern an folk commit crimes in his name. Dusnae make sense tae me. Ah’ve nivir hud folk say that aboot me. Ony wieys ah ken a guy sittin oan the board e a hameless chairity wha’s devoted tae Muhammad. Does a lote e guid. Whit difference does it mak. Guid is guid and tawpieheid is as tawpieheid does.”
“Sorry tae roll yer stane awa thaire JC bit we gote bigger fish tae fry an this isnae the feedin e the five thoosan. This is herts versus Rangers or Scotland vs England it Murrayfield.”
Margo: “Richt,less e yer pish. Any WORKABLE IDEAS?”
Lao: “We kid impose a land tax oan the richt,tax the lords an aw that’s estate where thir wis nae yaise we kid divide it up amang ordinary folk.”
“Aye! That’s a braw idea,” said Jesus.
“Shit there’s ainly ane problem,” said Lara. “Foosty davit.”
“BOLLOCKS!” thae aw let oot disappointedly.
“Bugger it. We’re gaunae huv tae phone ‘im,” Margo sighed.
“Is that David?”
(Posh) “Hello. It is indeed.”
“We’ve gote a plan fer scotland gif ye’re willin tae hear it.” Margo then went oan tae expound the policy.
David Cameron: “No and No.See this is why I don’t give you more powers.”
The thote e aw Cameron’s richt sooks bein’ taxed made him want tae greet. “Stiff upper lip boy remember like at Eton,” ’E telt ‘imself.
Margo whae membered the days the Thatcher wis huvin nane this. “Listen ye wee prick, this is scotland an this is oor idea. Ah’m no happy. Ah’m takin his higher. Ah’ll need tae phone the Queen.”
Cameron: “Must dash old chum. Disabled people’s lives won’t ruin themselves.”
The Queen hurd the phone ringin’ an quickly poued oan ‘er human face.
(Posh but Alien like:) “Yissssss. Thissssss. ISSSSSS. Theeeeeee. Queeeeeennn.”
“Hello. Gaun lit us impose oor tax plan. We’ve eh kinna owre done it oan the auld trams”.
Prince Phillip pit doon his buik, ‘Racist Stories Volume Twa’, tae listen.
“Ivvvvvvvv Gottttttuha gameeee off Pohloh Gohing ONN Soooh Yisss.”
Back hame thir wis a clamjamfrie e celebration fae the Parliament. In huff in the coarner wi Gurnie pus’ wir the tories.
So wi “pith an pooer” the plan kid gae aheid.
The Duke e Buccleuch ,that rich gadgie wha hud turned his back an the scot clan wis bein taxed like he shid. His vaist landit estates wir opened tae public as pairks an some basic hooses wir biggit oan the grund tae help the hameless. A plan coordinated by Margo, the Greens, the SSP, Muhammad and his Scottish freends.
See whit kin happen if we hink aboot it.
Jist when yez aw thote it wis gaunae be a wee happy endin’ lik in Holywood, mind this is Holyrood.
The meeinisters turnit oan the telly tae see the North oil rigs. Thir hud been an explosion an eyle wis pishin oot intae the sea. Birdies in feish wir washin’ up oan the beach drookit an claethed in sticky clarty keech.
“Ach. Here we go again,” Jesus exclaimed.
“Fechtin wi feckless radges.”
Lao went: “In’t it aewis the wiey.”
He roughly ran his hand over his wrist which he felt to be tightening.
“My right honourable friends.” He needed to wipe the sweat from his forehead.
Nicola Sturgeon (SNP) nudged him: “Go on. Tell them.”
“My right honourable friends we seem to have a little bit of an issue, em, there’s never an easy way to say it.” He stopped speaking.
The Scottish Tories who were experts at kidding themselves (hence the party’s very existence) could see where he was going with it.
“You’ve spent all the annual budget haven’t you!?”
There was quite a scuffle in the chamber. The much ignored Independent Candidate Margo MacDonald chipped in:”You’ve gone an flushed the taxpayers money down the toilet. Pissed away pounds on a ploy for profit and in the process messed up Edinburgh. *NB: this is a reference to the Edinburgh Trams*
The Salmond spoke: “Yes, well I wouldn’t put it like that, but eh just a bit.”
“What are we going to do? In all this digging and like, it’ll be releasing a lot of fumes and oil into the earth,” The Scottish Greens remarked with much agreement from those assembled.
“You Greens have got your heads screwed on wrong,” said the Scottish Tories as their heads drifted to thoughts of 5 story hotels down the Cowgate.
The Tory hydra bit its nails and interjected with: “What about this… Antartica. Nice little bit of real eastate there. We could have a colony.”
Margo and the SSP (Scottish Socialist Party) looked one another and shouted: “No more goes at colonies,You bunch of dicks!”
*Alluding to the failed Darien Colony and also the lesser known one in Nova Scotia*
And kicked the chimeric cthulu ( horrific monster from HP lovecraft fiction) in its collage of vaginas and balls.
Anyway, there is a plot to this story.
The Scottish Lib Dems, after scratching their heads and nearly causing Arthur’s Seat to be aflame again remarked: “We know,we’ll get them folk in… What’s that one in that book called?” said a Lib Dem.
“He’s in a book,” came another.
“Yes, what’s it called? No pictures, bit fantastic.”
“Iraq War Dossier?” tumbled out of the lips of the Scottish socialist party young lad.
“No, eh oh yeah, it’s the bible,” said the Scottish Lib Dem leader.
“If we call them, maybe they can help.”
“Yes, excellent idea,” almost everybody cried out.
“I’ll phone them,” said the Lib Dem leader who promptly went to the toilet holding his paper circling second homes to claim on expenses.
Margo had just got diagnosed (she has a degenerative disease) that was playing on her mind and making her not suffer fools gladly. As well as that, well the other MSPs were full of wind and piss. She was loathe to give these issues any more than her conscientious and urgent attention.
“Alright you big bunch of fannies, I’ll phone,” said Margo as she flipped out her decrepit old phone (decrepit in being last year’s and not bought with RBS bailout money).
Scottish Labour looked on, drinking Pinot wine from old miners’ hats.
“Ah hello. Is that Jesus and all that?”
“Alright, no Jesus isn’t here but I’m part of the crew. They call me Lao (Lao Tzu alleged to be the writer of the Tao Te Ching,one of my favourite works ever), how can I help you?”
“Well Mr Lao, we need your help. These gormless bastards have used up all their money on a stupid tram system that’s battered Edinburgh.”
“Oh, I see…Wu Wei, Wu Wei.” (*Taoist concept Wu Wei: Non Action. It’s a joke about that)
“Sorry, it’s hard to hear you with that police siren going off in the background.”
“No! You don’t get it.WU WEI! WU WEI! “
“You’re needin’ a wee? Go have a piss, then come on over”
“Listen to me Lao. I don’t care if you’re needing a piss or to shit out a torpedo like a trident submarine, come on over fast as fuck. If you don’t hurry up they’ll be on the phone to RBS and all the rich idiots (*referencing Robert Burns ‘Is there for Honest Poverty*) quicker than you can say ‘ConDem.Uk’. Capiche?” *a stab at the coalition and cuts*
Needless to say, they were all over pretty sharpish.
In trudged the crew. There was Jesus, Buddha, Confucius, Lao, Muhammad and Lara Croft.
Margo Macdonald greeted them all and they sat down.
“Good to see you finally saw sense Lao,” she said.
“Nah, I’m only here for the free food, Wu Wei bitch.”
Margo frowned. “For Christ’s (Sorry J) sake, get a hold of your self!” And she gave him a smack on his head.
“Was that sore ballbag?”
“Nah. You see the ow is not the real ow. Ye can’t talk nonsense about the real ow.”
Margo clenched her first ready to belt him one right in the head.
“But yeah, I’m done. Wu Wei doesnt mean no doing nothing. Just being spontaneous man. I was only having you on… well that and I’m just overly contradictory by nature.”
“No more of this. Come on, you’re not Dunbar and Kennedy you know.”
Buddha looked detached and taking all this in his stride.
Confucius said: “Give a man a fish and feed him for a day, teach a man to fish and feed him till he goes in the ground.”
Buddha was tucking into cake.
Margo retorted: “Is that you getting at us?”
“Little factoid, pal. We might be bad but even David Cameron’s built his country on a house of scones and he’s piling the pressure on those who are not so lucky.”
Confucius: “Dave? Who is this Dave? Are you Dave?”
Lara Croft: “Do not worry yourself. He’s got confused again. No to mention he’s a bit out of his tree. Tea fair goes to his head.”
Buddha was munching and said: “I love cake.”
“We know. You’re on the fast track to the cardiac unit, I think you need to give it a rest,” said Lao.
“Where’s Muhammad?” Margo asked.
Jesus, shaking his head replied: “It’s an awful situation. Basically immigration stopped him cause he’s middle eastern and folk commit crimes in his name. Doesn’t make sense to me. I’ve never had folk say that about me. Anyway, I know a guy sitting on the board of a homeless charity whose devoted to Muhammad. Does a lot of good. What difference does it make? Good is good and stupid head is as stupid head does.”
“Sorry to roll yer stone away there JC, but we have bigger fish to fry and this isn’t the feeding of the five thousand. This is Hearts versus Rangers or Scotland vs England it Murrayfield.”
Margo: “Right, less of your crap. Any WORKABLE IDEAS?”
Lao: “We could impose a land tax on the right, tax the Lords and all their estate where there was no use. We could divide it up among ordinary folk.”
“Yeah! That’s a good idea,” said Jesus.
“Shit, there’s only one problem,” said Lara. “Mouldy David.”
“BOLLOCKS!” they all let out disappointedly.
“Bugger it. We’re going to have to phone him,” Margo sighed.
“Is that David?”
(Posh) “Hello. It is indeed.”
“We have a plan for Scotland if you’re willing to hear it.” Margo then went on to expound the policy.
David Cameron: “No and no. See this is why I don’t give you more powers.”
The thought of all Cameron’s rich suck ups being taxed made him want to cry. “Stiff upper lip boy remember like at Eton,” he told himself.
Margo who remembered the days of Thatcher was having none of this. “Listen you little prick, this is Scotland and this is our idea. I’m not happy. I’m taking this higher. I’ll need to phone the Queen.”
Cameron: “Must dash old chum. Disabled people’s lives won’t ruin themselves.”
The Queen heard the phone ringing and quickly pulled on her human face.
(Posh but Alien like): “Yissssss. Thissssss. ISSSSSS. Theeeeeee. Queeeeeennn.”
“Hello. Go on, let us impose our tax plan. We’ve kind of over done it on the old trams.”
Prince Phillip put down his book, ‘Racist Stories Volume Two’, to listen.
“Ivvvvvvvv gottttttuha gameeee off Pohloh gohing on soooh yisss.”
Back home there was a roar of celebration from the Parliament. In a huff in the corner with moody faces were the Tories.
So with “pith an power” the plan could go ahead.
The Duke of Buccleuch, that rich guy who had turned his back on the scot clan was being taxed like he should. His vast landed estates were opened to public as parks an some basic houses were built on the gorund to help the homeless. A plan coordinated by Margo, the Greens,the SSP, Muhammad and his Scottish friends.
See what could happen if we think about it.
Just when you all thought it was going to be a little happy ending like in Hollywood, bear in mind this is Holyrood.
The ministers turned on the telly to see the North oil rigs. There had been an explosion and oil was gushing out in to the sea. Birds and fish were washing up on the beach soaking and clothed in sticky dirty crap.
“Ach. Here we go again!” Jesus exclaimed.
“Fighting with feckless crazies.”
Lao said: “Isn’t it always the way.”