Welcome to the next thrilling chapter of the exciting novel, Two Enclaves:
Over the water in Remainia, an equally aged troika was made up of three, erstwhile well-established parliamentarians. The elder statesman was undoubtedly the one with the white hair and beard, whose appearance was decidedly gnome-like. For as long as anyone could recall, he was known as Sydney Carton – nobody could remember his real name, who he actually was, or what he actually did. To have said that he was soft-voiced would have been an understatement. In matters political, the man had no voice or presence, at all. Rumour had it that he had earned his present moniker by means of a single act of extreme selflessness. In the turbulent year of 2019, Sidney Carton had, putting country first, bravely manoeuvred his party into abstaining from a vital vote concerning the call for a general election, which move was tactfully engineered in order to confound the Government of the time. It was after this extreme display of heroism, that he was heard to exclaim: “It is a far far better thing that I do, than I have ever done.” After that exclamation, Sidney Carton (as he then became) lapsed, once again, into political silence, speaking only when spoken to and then, only on matters pertaining to his allotment.
The second participant in the troika was fairly tricksy.
This was Diane Rabbit, who, on account of her bouts of bad temper and pursuit of trumped-up grievances, was widely referred to as ‘The Diva.’ The astronomical number of these imaginary grievances made it necessary for The Diva to re-invent herself at least twice a month. She was currently deeply immersed in the life events of Madame Defarge, a revolutionary character, created by Charles Dickens, who depicted her as an evil tricoteuse (one of a number of women who sat and knitted while attending public executions during the French Revolution). Defarge was obsessed with revenge against the French aristocracy. The Diva was obsessed with revenge against The Democratic Republic of Brexitania, which she held responsible for hundreds of misdeeds, many of which dated back more than forty years..
The third member was a luminary. His was the beatific smile, the gleaming teeth, the high brow and the fixed eyes. His was the glorious name of Bony Glare – the people’s politician. All things to all men (and all women too). He was bold and audacious and was discomposed by only two things:
The first was the utterance of three letters of the English alphabet … “W M D,” which completely discombobulated him.
The second was far more sinister. It concerned a certain style and fitness advisor, who had advised Bony and his wife way-back-when, and who went by the name of Carole Cupcake. Unbeknown to any of his family, friends or colleagues, Bony was absolutely terrified of the Cupcake. He was convinced that she was a participant in the dark arts and her mere presence in the room could easily cause him an attack of ‘the shakes.’ On the other hand, Bony’s wife (Sweet-Cherry Glare) positively rejoiced in Cupcake’s company. They were friends of long, long standing, and together indulged in all sorts of pleasurable girly activities – mostly to do with potpourri, Hatha yoga and all things pink.
Bony hated all things pink – they made him nauseous.
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