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T’was late in the evening when I found myself comfortably ensconced before the fireplace, my pipe in one hand and the testimonies of St.Gove in the other. Puffing occasionally on my pipe and glancing at the pages of the good book (Gove be praised), it seemed to me that I was struck by two things. Firstly, the wondrous enlightening effect these testimonials were having upon my previously darkened thinking and secondly, the distracting wailing sounds being emitted by a cat or some such (a child? At this time of night? Surely not!) outside my living room window. Leaving my seat and opening my window I peered out into the darkness,there was nothing there,whatever had been making that infernal racket had gone. Sighing with relief I quickly turned back to my book,page twenty of Gove’s testimonials, on which were written these immortal words,
“One can only move from goodness, to greatness, by trusting the good and the great”
I was reflecting upon this when I heard it again, a high pitched caterwauling, this time from outside my front door. Clasping the testimonials of Gove against my chest (for spiritual protection), I crept towards the door and opened it. To my horror a strangely clad female lay across my threshold half-conscious,
“Fifty pence for a turkey twizzler” she kept murmuring over and over as I helped her to her feet and walked her into my humble abode. Quickly looking around I shut the front door (one must consider one’s neighbours) and ushered this creature of the night towards the fireplace, whereupon she collapsed upon the floor twisting her hands this way and that and wailing all the while.
“We can’t afford the smoked salmon ratatouille or the tarte aux poivre, turkey twizzlers, I made enough for two turkey twizzlers. That will carry him through the school day surely?”
The poor deluded woman whom I took to be a parent (though she was not dressed like the maternal sort), plunged a pale, limp, hand into her bosom and pulled out two sorry looking coins.Tears welled up in my eyes, the sorry fruits of a nights work amidst the fleshpots of sin no doubt, one could only wonder at the poor quality of this fallen woman’s decision making, at the impact this had, had on her finances, I turned toward the testimonials of Gove which lay upon the mantelpiece and my eyes fell on the following words,
“Think you that without central intervention, in the matter of school lunches, people will become wicked and evil and do the wrong thing? Of course not!”
Praise be to Gove! For these profound words made me think back to the days of state funded spam fritters, cornflake tarts and sausage in batter with chips, plum pudding and custard had always been my favourite. The revelation of St.Gove had brought Eton-standard education to all along with the certain knowledge that the provision of sausage in batter was wrong, our children deserved better.
“Turkey twizzlers at least he can afford two turkey twizzlers that should get him through the day”
Sighing heavily, I pulled the woman to her feet and seated her in my armchair (I pulled up a stool), turning to the first page of Gove’s testimonials I cleared my throat,
“My dear have you ever considered embracing the creed of Gove?”
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Academy status, Hypocritical Cant

A Midnight Feast

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