As the world continues its headlong rush towards the pit labelled ‘unceasing bobbins’ people are consoling themselves with the fact that something nice is surely going to occur at some point. Maybe. P’raps. Yeah?
“I reckon it’s like roulette,” local councillor Nina O’Neill told us. “After lots of red, you’re due a black and up it always comes. That isn’t how numbers and physical objects work? Oh, we’re buggered then.”
“Life’s not so bad while we have batter and lovely hot chips,” said Stephen Trawlerman owner of Harold takeaway The Stephen Fryer. “If you feel powerless you can always comfort eat. I believe Eddie has a similar but more alcohol-based message for punters in the The Squirrel Lickers.”
“Never give in. Never give in,” boomed an extremely elderly and very familiar cigar-clutching, Homburg hat wearing villager. “Never, never, never, never—in nothing, great or small, large or petty—never give in, except to convictions of honour and good sense. Never yield to force. Never yield to the apparently overwhelming might of the enemy.”
After hearing that most villagers said that they felt a bit better and that though we’ve just endured six years of very posh politicians barking at us they liked this one and that he reminded them that somehow it’s always all right in the end.