Local Elections In Trebollocks, Cornwall

How do you get a town not to vote for a git?

I hate elections. I never know who to vote for but I've had to put my foot down this time. Pictured here is Mr Arthur Hemulen-Squiddy, the thicket-bearded, wind bag who has decided that women are to be seen and not heard.

I'm no longer permitted to teach at the college, so my teaching job is up the swanny. All the students of Shrieking Level 1, Advanced Hiding NVQ, and the Intermediate Tortoise Flinging classes are well annoyed.

I've got a good mind to run him over but I don't drive.

Mrs Coddy next door was issued with an injunction after she was spotted outdoors tending to her geese. She was supposed to be under the supervision of a man. The library are taking on all new staff, as all the female librarians are not only jobless but are in prison for having ideas well above their stations. There are now twelve male librarians with bad dress sense, B.O. and big glasses. Not much difference, really.

His policies are thus:

All women to be accompanied by men when outdoors (if in an all-female household - phone council to book male volunteer at a price of £60 per half hour). No women in the following establishments; bars, libraries, shops, offices, hospitals (unless seriously ill and not just fainting), etc,.

Any woman found with an idea, a book, or money of her own will be shot. Any man giving a woman an idea, a book, or money of her own will be imprisoned for 10 yrs.

Any man dressing as a woman will be imprisoned for 5 yrs. Any woman dressing as a man will be shot. Twice, if found holding a book.

Women are limited to 14 words per day (words include yawning and loud breathing). In the interests of Womens Rights, female campaigners are permitted 15 words per day, (if they are found campaigning they face imprisonment).

Women are not permitted to socialise indoors with other women in case they get ideas. Any circles of women who meet underground will be tarred and feathered. No women are permitted on the Trebollocks, Cornwall region of Facebook or Twitter. Any female found twittering without real feathers, a bill, and webbed feet, will be shot.

Cookery, tapestry, laundry, child bearing, and other female hobbies will be allowed.
A bonus three words will be allocated to each woman on Bank Holidays.

In the interest of Women's Rights, their campaigners are allowed 15 words per day.

Can you believe it? Apparently Aunt Bench didn't vote because she was out (?), Aunt Gourd voted for him by mistake (??), Aunt Mary-Jaffa didn't vote at all because she didn't like the look of any of them and said the other bloke looked like an owl. Aunt Vom didn't vote as she was in the nick after throwing flaming spears at Mr Hemulen-Squiddy's car the week before under the cover of a balaclava.....Aunt Vom, not the car...cars don't wear balaclavas.

Cousin Girda is unfortunately in love with Arthur Hemulen-Squiddy, which says it all. So I, along with Mrs Fowlpest, Aunt Whelk and Great Uncle Mandy are hiding in my hedge with a plan.

We've got a map drawn up, and we've stockpiled spoons and wood. I'm not sure how handy this will come in, but if you've got any suggestions, I'd be very grateful. The others aren't that clever, so I'm tempted to get a fake passport, shave off my beard and do a runner to Poland. It should be pretty empty.

But before I go, here's a photo of who I voted for: the champion of the Trebollocks Womens Movement and Gold Medallist in the Hedge Laying at the Southend-On-Sea 1884 Olympics, Mrs Brian Plankton-Chamberlain. But then it came out that it's a bloke in a dress who works for the opposition.

He looks nice, too.

Bloody politicians.