2013

 

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Mrs. Monk's Would-be Diary should have been written by Mrs. Monk, since she is the "Writer" in the family.
However, since she is a writer only in the conceptual sense, I have undertaken to fill these pages on her behalf
If not by her, these pages will certainly be about her, and other important matters of the day         Leslie Monk

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NORTHEND UPON  SEA

by  Monkles  1 January 2013

A SOAP OPERETTA

10 YEARS HENCE A FUTURE ALLIANCE OF THE RIGHT

"Northend" is not a "sleepy" seaside town, unless you are inclined to ignore the low flying helicopters hovering and tracing the fleeing of burglars; and not at all "sleepy" without ignoring and forgiving the too-near neighbours with a karaoke habit, and the consequential wall hammering to quell and repel unpalatable din. And not a bit "sleepy", if you disregard the twice a day passing of packs of over-spoilt reservoir puppies, to and from Northend Academy, a relic of a 10 year old educational experiment never intended to succeed..

The honourable Daniel Indigo Tidy, representing the constituency of Northend West, has been found wanting of late. Since the formation of the UKipCon alliance, Tidy found comfort in the safe constituency of Northend West.

Regarded as a lightweight by his party whip, the faltering UKipCons expect Tidy to deliver in this "safe" parliamentary seat, in spite of his physical and intellectual shortcomings. Tidy found himself in parliament by chance and by good fortune since the big fat majority of this constituency made no particular demands of him, nor any particular effort  by him to sustain popularity. 

Just as well.

Tidy is at this point most likely to lose his seat at the imminent election if not for a small miracle. He is now driven, and bound to endure the humiliation of seeking votes, the very need to canvas for votes for very first time, due in part to yet another expenses scandal where he went too far, and furthermore was identified, named and shamed with others by the national press.

Tidy prepared himself at the door of No 35 Northend Beach Boulevard. Within this place, Mr Withaspoon, a tall man and an octogenarian who possesses the largest hands of any man alive, and he looked upon Tidy through the blinds of his bay window.

Mr Withaspoon kept Tidy waiting at the door. He had opposed the conservatives for his entire lifetime and their alliance with UKIP was not received well. This was perhaps the moment he had been waiting for, and for fifty years.

Mr Tidy MP, alone and unaware adjusted his tie to impress before he raised a hand and knocked upon the door knocker, then stepping back one pace, he prepared himself for an encounter with a  constituent to gain just one vote.  Looking down at a notepad he noted the name and rehearsed a salutation for Mr Withaspoon.

Would he say,

"Good Morning, Mr Withaspoon?"

Or would he say,

"Hello, My name is Tidy"

He then rehearsed various smiles before fixing the biggest "friendliest" (creepiest) smile ever known to man.....  and waited for the door to open.

.......to be continued......

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