The big man with his tightly fitting pin striped suit on, waddled like a duck, past Brian Haw. Brian was camped out, opposite parliament. The big man knew what Brian was doing, and it made the big man chuckle to himself. Brian was squatting down, cooking over a makeshift stove, bacon and eggs on a rusty frying pan. “But that was ok”, thought the big man. “Brian is allowed to eat”.
The big man secretly, despite his loyalty the party was a supporter of Brian Haw, he admired his conviction; he considered him to be a warrior for peace, freedom, equality and truth. “And, surely,” thought the big man, “That’s why people enter politics”, and with this sentiment it helped the big man pick up speed, and he quickened his pace. After all, he couldn't possibly be late.
If it wasn’t for Brian Haw a lot of these atrocities would not have been brought out, into the mainstream. Even though the big man suspected that many journalists were now starting to boycott the reporting of Haw’s campaign, and that only reminded the big man of his time in Sharleston, back in the early nineties, when the ‘Women Against Pit Closures’ were also being deliberately ignored, by the mainstream press. Anne Scargill told him this at Joan Maynard's funeral tea. This is was in Thirsk, the out back of Yorkshire, back in 1991?
In a strong
Anne was right.
It was a week later that she and group of other brave women made they’re way down a pit in
The big man did have loyalty to his party, but he also had loyalty to his friends, friendship he valued more than ambition. And, Anne was a friend, even despite her affinity with Communism.
Brian stank of shit, but the big man didn’t notice because he had lost his sense of smell years ago as result of motorbike accident, that had sent him flying through the air like a torpedo, luckily for him the angels caught him, just in the nick of time. The doctors were mystified by his recovery, they were certain that they would be dealing with yet another fatality. "Dangerous bend", the boy like police officer said, "You’re lucky to be alive, Mr Ponservative", said another, even younger, doctor.
This is why the big man ate so much, he knew that by being big it would cushion any fall he might have in the future. The problem was, when he climbed ladders they broke, so he was never able to clean his ex-wife’s windows, but then he didn’t need a ladder for that anyway, because she lived in a ground floor flat.
The big man was on his way to CCHQ, it was a George Osborne event, a fundraiser that Hornsey and Wood Green Tories were hosting. The big man had a question for George, this was his question:
“When will the Tories abolish tax?”
One hour later …..
All the toffs slurping champagne, intellectual flash questions being asked, everyone applauding and sucking face. Then …..
The big man asks his question, he clears his throat first.
“When will the Tories abolish tax?”
At first people started laughing, they thought the big man was an idiot. They thought he was joking, but he wasn’t. He asked the question again, “When will the Tories abolish tax?”
Gasps of shock horror, embarrassed red faces, people looking away, looking down at their sparkling Prada shoes.
George whispering into another man’s ear, “Who is that rather portly idiot?”
“I don’t know sir. Yes, he is a rather large fellow, isn’t he?”
George, “Before I go, anymore questions from the floor?”
They ignored the big man.
The big man left early, went past Brian Haw’s site and dropped him a tenner.
“How were the sausages Brian?”
“Not bad mate, thanks for the dough”.