Monday 4 December 2023

A fairytale that has nothing to do with Scotland. Part 20

Part 19

Once upon a time the chronicler of fairytales Effie Deans looked back upon almost a year’s work and felt a mixture of horror and shame. She didn’t understand her own fairytale. It made Grimm reading.

The whole point of the fairytale was to tell the truth when that was the only way to tell it. The Head Loo after all might ignore or might even not notice when one of the lesser chroniclers might start a trend, but they were sure to notice if she said anything she wasn’t supposed to.

The Secret (1858) by William Henry Fisk

But how can you use fairytales to tell the truth if you don’t know the truth yourself? This was where she was. It had all made sense, but then suddenly two additions to the story made that everything else made no sense at all. Let us go back to the beginning.

We can all assume that Queen Nancy abdicated because she had no choice. If there had been nothing forcing her to go, why did she go? But then we learned about the Head Loo, and it looked very much that all attempts to flush away the incriminating fag end in the bowl had failed.

The same went for King Paul he abdicated as well, and it soon seemed as if we all knew the reason. Both Nancy and Paul had been naughty soon they would not merely have a chat with the Head Loo, they would have their heads pushed into it and the Head Loo flushed. Why tell them that they had to have the chat, if there would be no flushing afterwards and after that when they no longer had the benefit of a Head Loo there would be slopping out?

Meanwhile we had the drama of the succession with Claudia, fighting it out with Regan and Gonorrhoea.

Everyone assumed that Gonorrhoea would win, but what we didn’t know was that Nancy and Claudia and Regan and indeed everyone else knew that Gonorrhoea deserved his nickname because he had been playing away from home not merely while cheating on his first wife but while cheating on his second wife too.

Worse still Nancy had made an almighty fuss when the dreadful man from Sasainn hung his cock out when he should have kept it away from all the cameras. She had pretended to obey all the rules herself and had invented more rules to show how concerned she was about the plague. Of course, in one’s own palace who was to know if there was the odd gathering of friends and the odd hairdresser’s appointment. But she had succeeded in the main goal of looking better than anyone in Sasainn by keeping all that secret.

But then why pick Gonorrhoea as the anointed heir? Wouldn’t he be as likely as her to get into trouble with Head Loo and have his head flushed down it if the Head Loo found out what everyone knew. But if the Head Look can’t find out what everyone knows, what’s the point of having a Head Loo, you might as well have a hole in the ground and have its name in Gaelic too.

So, we go through the beginning of the year assuming that every week there will be some new revelation and when it’s particularly juicy Effie chronicles it so that everyone knows what has happened and who did what to whom. So, we assume that the Head Loo is really efficient with its use of water, but then weeks pass, and nothing happens.

The case of Gonorrhoea is worse than anyone thought possible. The poor member can no longer play at home let alone play away. Mrs Gonorrhoea is Mrs angry and keeps telling Gonorrhoea that he got what he deserved. He blames the quasar, but the quasar blames the unnamed or perhaps multiple unknown unknowns who caused the first I divorce you, I divorce you, I divorce you.

The urologist who knows a thing or two about these things blames the Gonorrhoea not least because he got it twice and a few threats from star system closest to the quasar more times than that. No wonder he’s keeping silent.

But the Head Loo have nothing to say to Gonorrhoea even though they know about the threats to the urologist from Gonorrhoea’s friends and family and even though they know that the plague rules were broken otherwise there would have been no case of Gonorrhoea in the first place. You can’t catch it if you stay two metres away not unless your Hancock extends further than Gonorrhoea’s micro Hancock.

So here is where we are. If Gonorrhoea is immune from the Head Loo and Nancy and Paul are also immune from the Head Loo, why did Nancy abdicate in the first place?

There was a brief moment when things looked dangerous for Nancy and Paul, and they had to abdicate and run for the Kampferwagen. But that brief moment passed, and the Head Loo is no longer outwith our control.

Everyone knows Gonorrhoea has Gonorrhoea, but he can continue spreading his pox and get clapped for doing it. No one thinks that Nancy and Paul are going to have to resort to slopping out rather than their gold-plated Head Loo.

So, what changed? If Gonorrhoea can get away with spreading Gonorrhoea, why couldn’t Nancy get away with whatever she resigned for?

We live in a through the looking glass kingdom. Curiouser and curiouser said Effie as she reflected on a rumour.

Paul has been admitted to the hospital with a problem with his ass that was not caused by riding too long on his donkey. When asked for his name he declared that he was called Petra. Do you identify as dog said the secretary? I don’t identify as anything said Petra, I’m a woman.

“And what may the problem be?”

“The problem is with my wife Nancy or now my husband, Nathan?”

“Not the prophet Nathan?”

“No, he has his own problems with the”.


“How did you know”

“We know more even than the Head Loo. Are you sure that’s not your problem too?

“My problem is my husband’s over enthusiasm in proving his manhood”

“It got stuck?”

“It did indeed”

“But Petra your problem isn’t just with the stuck enthusiasm it’s with the Gonorrhoea. That’s why your behind is so clapped out?”

“Who gave him that?”

“You’d better ask the Head Loo”.

In other parts of the kingdom there is a transman who became pregnant during lesbian sex with his transwoman wife. Both were given Gonorrhoea by Gonorrhoea, but were told if they said anything about it, they would have balls kicked like footballs, which scared the transman, but didn’t concern the transwoman who identified as not having balls to kick.

I feel like we are in the middle of one of those strange mystery stories with endless red herrings and you just know that there is going to be a surprise ending where someone impossible like the narrator will have done it.

I laughed at the time “The poor deluded fools have chosen Gonorrhoea”, bit it doesn’t feel so funny now. On the one hand an inability to perform might be welcomed by quasars, Hell Nakbas, sheep, donkeys, other dumb animals, Paul and Nancy, but look how he spreads his lack of utility?

Part 21

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