Young Brett’s Barrel of Ale, Calendars and The High Court of
Nobles (Shortened
For Commercial Exploitation)
‘Twas the glorious days of Good
King Arthur, long shiny swords, spiked balls on chains and blood flying
everywhere. It was truly glorious! Nobles in fancy tights and frocks with many
ladies waiting, the ladies wearing very heavy hats.
In
these days walls were built to keep frightening people out (they had no
aero-planes then). A noble could select from among the ladies anyone of their
choosing. As a lad of that time Young Brett of the northeast and his seconds could
not perceive anything finer, that being any lady and a barrel-cask of ale. They
executed their frivolities with the deftness of donkey-headed knaves.
Many
years passed, and Young Brett’s name came to be called - with a possibility
that he be named to the high court of nobles, (due to this there was a great
wailing throughout the land). During the interim of those years the ladies
tried to forget him being a rake, cad and general sleaze-ball but when The
Great Orange Dilberry selected him to be on the high court they could not
contain their horror. At their own peril they let the truth be known. They felt
it their duty to expose Young Brett, even if it meant their own doom.
When
these things came out the great orange quatch and his money snatching tax
policy providers twisted and ignored the obvious and well substantiated
recollections of the ladies. They listened to Brett’s wailing and weeping while
he spoke of how hurt he was that someone might actually hold him accountable.
Then he whined his way through a list of ladies names, as if merely pronouncing
them meant that he was not an evil fopdoodle. He also produced a calendar of
sorts, totally meaningless and outright preposterous to any honest man, but to
the great orange’s jackals, hyenas and cloying parasites it meant the world.
Thus,
after checking beneath several sanitary canal bridges and obtaining the oaths
of a handful of good-for-nothing men, they called everything fair for Brett and had the
ladies beheaded. Good Brett became an ale burping high court lackey, doing
everything in his power to maintain the kingdom’s debauched state, demeaning
the women and repressing the powerless. He also allowed the mill owners to dump
their wastes directly into the streams and rivers. (Not that they had no other
options, they were just greedy dilberries).
Then the
nobles and their lackeys* all lived happily forever after.
*not the ladies, serfs or
migrants…
