Highly Commended, 2014 Bafta Rocliffe New Comedy Writing. Winner, 2012 Time Out Horror Pitches. Part-time luchador fighting under the name of Pantera Furiosa.

Jun 26, 2016

Brexit: a fairytale

Children need to know the truth about why our united little kingdom decided to leave its friends and the answer lies in one often ignored body part

This story contains giants, politics and the word arsehole (a lot).

Once upon a time there was small kingdom, let’s call it U. Now, just for a bit of background (this is not a history lesson, stay with me here), U was friends (well, I say friends — kind of frenemies) with another kingdom, let’s call it EU. They didn’t always get along — kind of like mummies and daddies — but both sides realised that they were probably better together (and not just for the sake of the kids — there was still some passion there and hey, they had that holiday in Sorrento to look forward to and…but enough about my marriage, back to the story).

Now, a few months ago, the citizens, knights, princes and princesses of U started arguing about the kingdom of EU, but hey, they’d been doing that for years and it wasn’t really serious, you know, like mummies and daddies… (ED: ENOUGH WITH THE MARRIAGE METAPHORS!).

Now, one day, while U was going through another bout of what it called Weather — a small detour, just so you know, most kingdoms have sunshine or snow or rainbows, the U had all the weather, all the time, it was truly a magical place — two giants turned up on the shores of the kingdom.

The giants were from a mysterious series of caves in the mountains called Commons. And these two giants had been woken up by all these arguments about the kingdom of EU and wanted to know what was happening.

One of these giants was called Remmy. She was an odd one, was Remmy. No one really knew what she was or what she wanted — her voice was soft and many in the kingdom didn’t understand her. She was also a traveller, she had visited the kingdom of EU many times and liked what she’d seen — she knew it wasn’t perfect but she loved the food, the people and the different cultures.

The other giant was called Brex. He was not an odd one. Everyone knew what he wanted — his voice was loud and most people in the kingdom understood his every word. He was once a traveller, like Remmy, but not any more. He had visited the kingdom of EU, didn’t like what he’d seen, and decided he didn’t want giants (or indeed, anyone from EU) coming to the kingdom of U and messing it up. In his own booming, thunderous words, “if anyone’s going to mess up the kingdom of U, it’ll be me”.

Now, many moons ago, Remmy and Brex had been friends, they’d lived in Commons together and enjoyed many holidays in EU — relaxing on the beaches, sipping wine, eating olives (Ed: You really need to see a marriage guidance counsellor NOW!)- but those times were past, Remmy and Brex were now very much enemies.

Now, something you need to know about these giants is that they were different from you and me. And I don’t just mean much bigger. No, not just that. They were made up of the same body parts as you and me but their body parts were independent and they could talk — remember this bit, because it’s kind of the point of the fairytale. And if you think that’s far-fetched, go and have a look at Pixar’s bank statement — they had a story about cars involved in espionage, for Christ’s sake.

Now Remmy had heard the rumblings from the citizens, barons, princes and princesses about the kingdom of EU and wanted to calm them down. Brex, well, Brex wanted to make sure those rumblings got louder. Louder like an earthquake.

So the giants were set for a fight. They gathered their body parts. Remmy checked her head (known as a Khan), she tapped her heart (known as a Davidson) and did an inventory of her other bits (we don’t want to get too scientific here, so we’ll go with heart and head, for now). Brex did the same. His head was called a Gove — his heart (which in truth wasn’t really in it) was ironically known as a Johnson (ED: that would make a great tagline but a buddy comedy starring the Rock).

However, Brex had something that Remmy did not have. A body part of which he wasn’t proud. A body part that spewed out faeces and smelled awful. A body part that was puckered up, petulant and puke-inducing. A body part that even an ugly giant like Brex wanted to keep covered up. However, Brex knew that if he wanted to challenge Remmy, he needed to let that hated body part free. That loathed body part was Brex’s arsehole — known in his language as a Farage.

So, Remmy let her head and heart try and sooth the rumblings in the kingdom of U but her voice was so soft and her words so sweet that no one really listened. Meanwhile, Brex’s head spoke slowly and coolly like a villain in a fairystory (whatever that is) and his heart made jokes that no one really understood about Aristotle, Ovid and Hadrian’s wall — and again, no one really listened. But his arsehole…now that was different.

The arsehole (hang on, I’ll use Brex-speak from now on ) the Farage detached himself from Brex, which was pretty unpleasant and Cronenbergian (Ed: yeah, nice reference for kids there!) and the Farage started travelling around U on his own.

The Farage spewed faeces and noxious gas all over the kingdom - he farted, he sharted, he followed through, he guffed, he trumped (Ed: subtle comedic punning reference to future political events there, Ben Elton!), he parped, he barked, he sprayed, he dumped, he crapped, he peeped, he grunted, he trumpted, he dropped trow, he pebble-dashed, he dropped the kids at the pool, he…you get the picture. And he even had time to stop this crapstravaganza for a day to make a poster. He was an arsehole possessed. And the citizens, barons, princes and princesses began to listen his shit.

And while Brex was outwardly disgusted by the Farage’s action, the Gove and the Johnson knew it was helping them challenge Remmy.

Remmy tried to calm the people of U but it was too late, Brex and his Farage had started to really scare the people. Remmy asked her head and heart to try to try and find her own arsehole (known as an Osborne) to see if he could help but he was nowhere to be seen. Her liver (known as a Cameron, and at one time, the most important part of her body) had checked out ages ago — she was going to need a transplant (Ed: I hope to God this story has a happy ending).

So the rumblings in the kingdom of U grew and grew and the stink from the Farage became unbearable until more than half the citizens said ‘NO MORE!’ and waved goodbye to their friends in the kingdom of EU.

Remmy burst into tears, not only had she lost her friends in the kingdom of EU but now she wasn’t sure how she’d afford that Cameron transplant. Brex was stunned — he didn’t really want to win, it had been a trick to help Remmy, he thought that if Remmy won, they could rekindle their good times together and stop the citizens of U from rumbling.

Brex was furious because his Farage was now out of control — that nasty poop-spewing arsehole was off on his own now and no matter how much Brex wanted him back, the citizens and the tellybox players, and wordy printers and interglobbers had fallen for his smelly, oozy, shitty charms.

And so, only hours after the citizens, barons, princes and princesses of U choose to say bye bye to their friends in the kingdom of EU, the arsehole Farage took to the tellbox to tell the nation what was really happening and what he wanted — “your health won’t get better; I will take charge of choosing a new head and heart for Brex; we will have a recession (Ed: let your parents explain, trust me, though that’s a bad thing).” He was the happiest arsehole in U — after years of being covered up, of being laughed at, of being called names, the arsehole had become the boss, he would tell Brex what to do from now on and Brex couldn’t stop him.

So what of Remmy, I hear you asked. Well, as soon as Brex had won, Remmy found her voice, she screamed and screamed until her face was every colour of the rainbow. She screamed that it wasn’t fair, she screamed that the nearly-deads had betrayed the just-borns; she screamed that the money had fallen down and the work would all go away; she screamed that the Farage had lied…she screamed and she screamed…

And so how does this story end…well, I’ll give you a choice, kids. Do you want the happy ending or the real ending Well, here are both — make your choice:

The happy ending:

Brex saw Remmy screaming and screaming and he was sad. He had always been friends with her and now she was so sad. As tears poured down her giant face, he realised how lovely she was. He walked over and held her hand. She pulled it away.

“This is your fault, you let your arsehole loose,” she said.

“I’m so sorry,” said Brex. “It was meant to be a trick, I thought I’d make you look good and all the citizens would be happy. I didn’t realise an arsehole could do that much damage. So what do we do now?”

Brex and Remmy looked into each other eyes — and something shone like the brightest star in the heavens — they now had a purpose. They would stop the arsehole Farage once and for all and then tell the citizens, barons, princes and princess of the kingdom of U the truth. There would be no more lies, no more threats, no more hate, no more fear. They would help their friends in the kingdom of EU to change for the better as well and together they would create a better world for the just-borns, the have-littles, the middle-walkers, the hangers-around and the nearly-deads. They stood up together and the ground rumbled. Somewhere, the arsehole Farage puckered up — he knew they were coming.

The real ending:

“This is your fault, you let your arsehole loose,” she said.

“Now! We do nothing. Your arsehole is out of control. He’s grown too big to stop. The citizens, barons, princes and princesses believe his shit. He is now ruling you, Brex. You’ve let your arsehole get stronger than your head or your heart. In fact, your arsehole just told the tellybox that he wanted to choose a new head and a new heart. He has used his poopy magic to trick the people into hating the citizens of EU who come here. Why did you have to let your arsehole loose?”

Brex and Remmy sat on a hill and looked over the once-beautiful kingdom of U. In the distance, there was a load resonant fart that broke the silence like thunder on a desert island. And a cheer went up from the citizens. Well, just over half of them, anyway.

And so kids, the moral of this story is — if you want to win something really important, forget your head or your heart, just be a total arsehole