By Fairy Nuff, Our Pantomime [aka Westminster] Correspondent

Our Betamax recorder is temporarily buggered, so here's the text of our Yuletide offering to our readers.

The cast (in order of appearance)

Scrooge – Scotland
Marley – Alastair Darling
Tiny Tim – Welfare State
Bob Cratchit – John Swinney
Fezziwig – Donald Dewar
Christmas Past – Tony Blair
Christmas Present – Chairchoob
Christmas Future – Wullie Rennie

The scene - a croft in Scotlandshire, with associated oil storage facilities and luxury accommodation (by London standards)

The date - undetermined, but probably between 1843 and 2014.

Part 1 - Darling's Ghost

Scrooge was a typical Scotchman – tight-fisted, ill-tempered. A squeezing, wrenching, grasping, scraping, clutching, covetous old sinner! Hard and sharp as flint, he had driven hard bargains like making sure that most of the Empire’s supply of coal and paraffin was under his control.

Knowing that paraffin oil was an excellent laxative, he meant to corner that market for himself, and force his southern cousins to pay exorbitant prices. Thus they would become bankrupt while they shat themselves. But how to make them pay most? A separate company? Some kind of joint venture? He was Undecided, and hated being unsure of himself. “Bah!” “Humbug!” he was wont to cry at such times.

Today had been particularly discombombulating. He had been visited by a pair of carolling Blairs, both urging him to put a copper or two into their charitable appeals, and he had been particularly offended by McDougall's idea that he join his "Better with Bankers" Fund.

"Are there no prisons?" asked Scrooge.

"Plenty of them", said McDougall, "but they are full of poor people. Only in Iceland do they jail bankers", he added.

"That Nordic model sounds pretty good to me, then", said Scrooge, but McDougall reminded him of the terrors that would befall Scotlandshire, if it went down that route.

"Remember Grýla, the Icelandic monster that scours the streets before Xmas looking for bad children to devour and thus cut Santa's present bill in times of austerity."

Bob Cratchit shivered as he heard that. Not that he was cold. As Scrooge's Finance Secretary, he was well paid, and his office was kept warm. But he knew that if Scrooge went into partnership with McDougall and his cronies, then the future Welfare State of his beloved Tiny Tim would be doon the chanty. This Xmas Eve could seal Tiny Tim's fate. His future lay in Scrooge's hands.

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Scrooge walked back through the freezing fog to his croft, deviating slightly to pick up his meagre evening meal - a couple of deep fried Mars bars and a bottle of Irn-Bru.

Reaching his front door, he stood astounded as he gazed at the door knocker. A chill gripped his heart and the batter on the Mars bars. Let it be borne in mind that Scrooge had not bestowed one thought on Darling, his former Financial Director, for many a year. He had assumed that he was in his accustomed comatose state. Let any man explain to me, if he can, how it happened that Scrooge, having his key in the lock of the door, saw in the knocker, without its undergoing any intermediate process of change - not a knocker, but Darling's eyebrows.

Darling's eyebrows. They had a dismal light about them, like a bad lobster in a dark cellar. As Scrooge looked fixedly at this phenomenon, it was a knocker again.

Inside, Scrooge was soon settled comfortably and reading the newly arrived copy of the bestseller "Scotland's Future". Gradually, however, he became aware of a dark brooding presence in the room. Casting a nervous glance over his shoulder, he realised that the ghostly apparition of Darling was raising itself into a somnambulist state.

"Alastair!", exclaimed Scrooge, "I thought you long dead, after your disastrous affair with the financial sector - and that long chain of debt that you carry, it seems to be disappearing link by link as I watch! Tell me this isn't so. Surely you, of all people, should be burning in the fiery pits of Hell and not suddenly appearing to scare decent folk."

"Geraldine", moaned the spectre of Darling (who had always been crap with details like names or regulation of banks), "I have been brought back to life by Gideon Osborne to warn you of the dire consequences of not entering a partnership with Westminster PLC. As to my disappearing chains, that's due to a really clever scheme called Quantitative Easing which removes debt by increasing inflation and punishing the poor yet again. Neat, eh?

"I have come to warn you that you will be visited by three Spirits, who will give you a last chance to repent your nasty splittist thoughts."

"Laphroaig, Bowmore and Bruichladdich?" asked Scrooge hopefully.

"Miserable sinner", boomed the spectre. "You should know that all the revenues from such things are required to reduce the balance of payments. As those on the Isle of Todday know, there will be no Whisky Galore while the struggle against socialism continues .." (At this point Darling broke off, and slipped off under the door, realising that he was in the wrong book.)

Scrooge closed the window, and examined the door by which the Ghost had entered. It was double-locked, as he had locked it with his own hands, and the bolts were undisturbed. He tried to say 'Humbug!' but stopped at the first syllable. And being, from the emotion he had undergone, or the fatigues of the day, or the dull conversation of the Ghost, or the lateness of the hour, much in need of repose; went straight to bed, without undressing, and fell asleep upon the instant.

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Part 2 - The First of the Three Spirits

Scrooge woke with a start as a series of explosions and an intense light lit up his room. Standing by his bed was a terrifying, smiling figure.

"Are you the first Spirit that Darling foretold? Who, and what are you?" quavered Scrooge.

"Hi", the Spirit said, "Just call me Tony. I'm a straight up, trustworthy kind of guy, so just take everything I say as having been officially authorised by the hand of History. I'm the Ghost of Christmas Past and you voted for me in 1997."

It put out its strong hand as it spoke, and clasped Scrooge firmly by the ear. "Rise! and walk with me!"

It would have been in vain for Scrooge to plead that the weather and the hour were not adapted to pedestrian purposes; that bed was warm, and the thermometer a long way below freezing; that he was clad but lightly in his slippers, dressing-gown, and nightcap; and that he had a cold upon him at that time.

The grasp, gentle as Ed Ball's voice and as firm as Johann Lamont's grasp of reality, was not to be resisted.

"Ignore the fighting that you see around you", said Tony. "I like to keep these images of my greatest triumph in Iraq nearby. They have no real existence, rather like WMD as it turned out.

"My pal Dave has asked me to give you a quick tour of what will no longer be yours if you split away. Hold tight, for we have many years of history to get through. That nice David Starkey has whittled it down a bit, so we'll just see the important bits.!

Scrooge's eyes became adjusted to the rapid changes of scene - Roman Londinium : a Saxon homestead : Alfred the Great : the Battle of Hastings : Agincourt : the signing of Magna Carta : Henry VIII's six wives (including a remarkably explicit portrayal of his attempts to father a son) : Sir Walter Raleigh : Drake and the Armada : the Virgin (so they said!) Queen : the English Civil War : .....

"Stop!", shouted Scrooge, "I learned about all those things in English history at school."

"Exactly", said the Ghost, "and if you don't stick to joint ventures with Westminster, your children won't be allowed to study them because they'll be foreign history. They'd be limited to things that happened in Scotlandshire. Obviously there aren't many things that did or you would have been taught about them."

Scrooge stood silent; deep in thought. "Does that mean that we also lose the responsibility for and guilt over the British Empire's treatment of the colonies, if we go our own way?"

The Ghost almost hid his sneer. "No. There will be a fair distribution of history. We will keep all the glory. You can have all the guilt – just as we’ll keep all the assets, but you will get all the debts.

"But enough of this. Let's move on to your time of greatest happiness - when I was Prime Minister."

---

Tears welled up in Scrooge's eyes as the glorious voice of Sheena Wellington (along with the rather inglorious voices of the newly elected MSPs) celebrated the reconvening of the Scottish Parliament with a rendering of Burns' anthem, "A Man's a Man".

Then Scrooge cried in great excitement, "Why, it's old Dewar! Bless his heart; Donald Dewar is alive again!

"And there's the Queen! And the flunkey that carries her dish of Bombay Mix for her! Oh! What a day that was!"

"You would give all that up?" asked the Ghost sorrowfully. "Splittism means the end of devolution."

Seeing the consternation on Scrooge's face, the Ghost pressed home his advantage. "I know what you really, really want is Devo-Max", he said. "There will be no chance of that if you go it alone, but you can trust the Parliament of England to give you that, as long as you stick with us, and carry on investing in our wars and WMD."

As Scrooge sat silent, lost in thought, he was transported back to his bed, and given a carefully measured dose of LSD and mescalin to increase his susceptibility to suggestion.

"You'll sleepwalk back into union", sniggered the Ghost.

---

Part 3 - Two more Spirits win Scrooge over

Scrooge had a restless night. He turned and tossed rythmically (as a batchelor, that was his usual practice), but a series of images of newspaper headlines flashed into his mind.

Strangely, the words of Magnus Gardham and David Maddox seemed more appealing to him than even the thought of Nicola Sturgeon's ankle - an image that he had previously found to concentrate his thoughts to the desired end, and his belief that he could do things by himself, without a partner.

A voice spoke.

"Dirty, wee bugger!" said the Chairchoob of the Select Committee for Soliciting Expensive Christmas Presents Every Sodding Time.

"Come!" ejaculated the Chairchoob. "Come in! and know me better, man", it said in the dulcet tones so well known to female members of his Committee.

"Would that be in the Biblical sense?" Scrooge asked nervously. "While I'm not orientated that way myself, I'm happy for everyone to do their own thing. Which is what I was doing before I was so rudely interrupted", he added peevishly.

"Fear not", said the Chairchoob. "You aren't one of my constituents, nor do you work for my London reclining agency. I am just here to show you how you will be personally better off by sticking with joint ventures with us. Labour constantly wins 'Strictly Come Dancing' because we dance together, not separately. That we also bribe the judges is wholly co-incidental."

An apparition of David Cameron first appeared. "Your Barnett Formula is safe with me", it said. "There are no plans to change it immediately. We will do nothing to cut your pocket money, and you can keep your public NHS with its free prescriptions, your Scottish Water, your free personal care, and all those other goodies that we English taxpayers so generously provide you with. Trust me on that."

Nick Clegg's face appeared through the gloom. "David's right", he said. "Like our pledge on University fees, you can rely on our promises."

The image faded, and the identical form that appeared in its place offered Scrooge a Red Rose, though its petals faded and fell as it moved closer to Westminster. "Remember", Ed said. "The Labour Party was founded by Scots, and we'll never let you down by becoming Tories just to get votes in the South. You are family, and we never knife our brothers in the back."

Next, a London economist sadly shook his head at Scrooge. "There's no value in these oil products that you are claiming a monopoly on. In any case the supply will run out in a couple of years. It's an imaginative commercial concept, though, and we'll take your entire stock off your hands. In exchange we'll give you a 1% share in our Syrup of Figs company. Not that England grows many figs, but the Middle East has ample supplies, and we have plans ..."

His financial plans ruined by this intelligence, Scrooge cried himself to sleep.

---

A chill spread over Scrooge as the Ghosts of Scotlandshire's Future (© U-KOK) pervaded the room, and he woke again.

Images of their portrayal of the splittist future invaded Scrooge's mind. The Five Horsemen of the Apocalypse rode unhindered across the county, spreading Pestilence, War, Famine, and Death in their wake.

"Five Horsemen?" wondered Scrooge. "I only remember Four when I learned about them in Sunday School."

Just then, the Fifth Horseman turned towards Scrooge, showing his evil grinning face.

"Whit kin ye dae? Eh?" it sneered. "Vote tae split, and I'll be yir First Minister for ever! Fares, please! Ding! Ding!"

As Rennie rode off on the No 19 bus from Rosyth to Ballingry, Scrooge screamed, then fell unconscious.

---

Part 4 - The End of It

Scrooge woke. He was ecstatic about the prospects of the Union. He would vote to continue with the joint ventures with London.

Throwing open his window, he spotted a young boy and, careless of possible accusations of paedophilia, engaged him in conversation.

"What's to-day?" cried Scrooge.

"Eh?" returned the boy, with all the linguistic ability that his English Free School education had given him.

"What's to-day, my fine fellow?" asked Scrooge.

"Today?" replied the boy. "Why, Christmas Day.'"

"It's Christmas Day!" said Scrooge to himself. "I haven't missed it. The Spirits have done it all in one night. They can do anything they like. Of course they can. Of course they can. Hallo, my fine fellow!"

"Hallo!" returned the boy, sensing that significant cash might result from this exchange.

"Do you know the U-KOK shop, in the next street but one, at the corner?" Scrooge inquired.

"The one in Fear Street, that we all avoid like the plague?" asked the lad.

"An intelligent boy!" said Scrooge. "A remarkable boy! Do you know whether they've sold the prize Turkey that was hanging up there? -- Not the little United with Labour one, but the big one - the Better Together Tory Positive Case for the Union one?"

"What, the one as big as the pimple on my arse?" returned the boy.

"What a delightful boy!" said Scrooge. "It's a pleasure to talk to him. Yes, my buck!"

"It's hanging there now," replied the boy, being well aware that no one had seen it.

"Is it?" said Scrooge. "Go and buy it."

 "Wanker!" exclaimed the boy.

"No, no," said Scrooge, "I am in earnest. Go and buy it, and tell them to bring it here, that I may give them the direction where to take it. Come back with the man, and I'll give you a shilling. Come back with him in less than five minutes and I'll give you half-a-crown!"

The boy looked disconcerted. "I don't want paid in foreign money", he said. "Cash in euros, US dollars or Swiss francs only." But Scrooge failed to hear the economic reality.

"I'll send it to Bob Cratchit." whispered Scrooge, rubbing his hands, and splitting with a laugh. "He shan't know who sends it. It'll double the size of Tiny Tim's Welfare State."

Alas, the turkey proved indigestible. Tiny Tim choked on it and died, just as Scrooge went to join the Osborne family he had chosen to stay part of. Unfortunately, they had gone to lunch with the bankers, leaving Scrooge cold and all alone in the snow.

"Merry Xmas", said the Ghosts.

"Fu*k it!", said Scrooge.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

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