Dear Torygarchs

0
2043

By Citizen Cuddis

Dear Torygarchs,

As the capo di tutti fruity of the Scottish Conservative and Unionist party I reach out to you for help yet again, comrades. With the party’s current credibility lower than a limbo dancer’s arse cheeks, it’s time for us to attempt a dead-cat bounce ahead of the upcoming local council elections in May. Because, let’s face it — what else have we got?

Our valiant band of listers cling to their Holyrood seats like barnacles to the keel of a kiddies’ paddle-boat on a municipal pond. If they are to continue pretending they give a Tunnock’s Tea Cake for the electorate, they need a mighty distraction indeed. Which is why we are contacting you today for ideas; after all you’re in charge of the UK anyway and we ran out of ideas in 1958.

Right now, we’re all jumping up and down in fist-clenching fury like Rumpelstiltskin — about the Scottish ferry thing, but that won’t last much longer. Besides, there’s a downside. The more we bang on about a couple of ferry windows painted in Midnight Black (Dulux), and harrumph over the Essennpee siphoning off public finances to pay Nicola’s hairdressing bills, Hypocrites (High-Po-Cry-Tees) the Roman god of double standards might smite us all down with a slack handful of buckshee thunderbolts.

Our lot have spent gazillions on tanks that can’t fire when they’re moving. Then there’s the aircraftless aircraft carriers. We even awarded a ferry contract to a company with no ships (See under ‘Failing Grayling.’) Best tread lightly then, when trying to knee Nicola in the puddins on wasting money.

We should play to our strengths, of course, but the thing is, the essennpee always seem to hold a royal flush while we’re left clutching a dog-eared pair of threes. It’s just not fair, Colin. They’ll shoot straight out of the trap, pointing out that it’s difficult for us to have strengths when you haven’t been in charge of the country since 1955 — an era when fly-paper was the most stylish home accessory on Woolworth’s shelves and there’d be nothing to watch on your Rediffusion Thunderbolt until Steptoe and Son hit the small screen seven years later. Neither is it particularly strong when we have levels of Westminster corruption amongst our metropolitan liege-lords not seen since Capone ran Chicago from Alcatraz.

That said, the council elections in May present an opportunity to send a strong message to the Essennpee-green government at Holyrood that we mean business. Let us stamp our little feet again and insist that the Essennpee must sort the potholes that make the A74 from Moffat to Selkirk resemble the road to Basra during the gulf war, before even contemplating independence.

In fact, let’s demand that a second referendum on Scottish Independence be taken off the table and left to one side of the back burner in the ‘now-is-not-the-time’ tray for at least a geological epoch at the end of which the entire stupid idea should be hoofed into the elephant grass where it belongs.

The Scotch people of the north-lands simply do not have the time for such fluff. So should we just run with our anti-independence schtick? I suppose we’ll have to; it’s not as if we have many policies to push. There’s our flagship policy of repealing the Prohibition of spitting out of Hansom cab windows before midnight on a southbound carriageway Act (1860.) But that’s it, really. It’s not really a dead cat bounce though; it’s just a dead cat.

There’s a huge amount at stake and I want to hear direct from you Torygarchs about your views on the things that are most important to us, both the local issues in your own community and the big questions facing Scotland just now.

Please take a few minutes to tell us what we should try next and how much you’ll charge for the advice. Return your thoughts to me in the freepost envelope provided. I’ll get back to you if I’m not running the line at Clachnacudden.

Comrades! Onward to victory!

George Anderson is a comedy writer based in Turriff, Scotland specialising in political satire and cutting social commentary. This is a link to his writing website Heedrum Hodrum

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